Curren$y Lyrics

Address lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Stalley)

It's all good, it's already

Yeah, already understood, ain't nothin

Still the same old, that's all

Ain't nothin change, fool, yeah

Uhh, nigga for what

Get down with these suckers when I'm high as fuck

And they under us, catch a crook in ya neck

From trying to watch the jets, Mr. Tokyo Drift

Spent yen on a vet, lookin' for ya bitch fool

Take one guess she caught up in the rapture

Wakin and bakin Anita's greatest hits blastin

Pedal mashin, paper twistin'

Scrape an engine, Rad Racer

No 3D glasses just a high ass rapper, Spitta

Nigga in the building, nah I'm on the roof chillin'

The pool up here, couple chicks I grew up with

Bottles in the cooler

If ya don't know how to do it homie I'll school ya

Barrel roll, loop de loop, top gun manuevers

Makin hot wheels outta hoopties holdin it down like balloon strings

It's all good ain't gotta be said, it's already understood

Ain't nothin, ain't nothin' change but the address

Fool, ain't nothin' change but the address

We still the same mode niggas switchin the script

But we still playin' the same role, and so

Ain't nothin' changed but the address fool, ain't nothin change

[Stalley:]

Starin out the villa at the ocean miles long

Tryin' to figure out raps to put up in a song

Nights long but the day's short, Nike shorts

Argyle socks, Jordan three's, lounge gear

Long beard you can tell I ain't from round here

Obvious with the occasional glare from the natives

Call 'em back tell my mama I make it

Not complacent with the life style

Feels good but it's hard to crack a smile

When the ones you came up with not around

Roll a joint after pickin through the pound, whole perception done changed

Funny how a three hour flight can make ya life change

Tight things I be thinkin on

When I'm driftin in and out of herb clouds

Hangin on every second of the moment

So you can feel all the memories I come home with

And for those that miss me, I'll be back don't trip in the 'Maro with the shift kit

Ocean side, doors open wide tryin' not to be sea sick

Plottin in the tropics thinkin' how I'm gone run this

Back in the states when I leave

Yeah, SkiBeatz

Life Under The Scope lyrics - Curren$y

Yeah, my weed lit, my glass chill

Couldn't be concerned less how a hater feel

Car service only opportunity for rest

In between destinations a lil' hibernation

Life under the scope I gotta stay fresh

They just wanna see ya fallin'

The only reason the cameras out when ya walkin'

The only reason they listenin' when ya talkin'

Waiting on ya to contradict yaself

Albeit evict yaself from the house

Like when Beth instigated that situation

When Tami got David kicked out

Suckers tryin' figure my angle

Puzzled by my shuffle icky wood in the bengals

Adjust my wing rudders in the prescence of danger

Drop bombs on them niggas from the middle

And stay calm knowin' we belong on the top

But we ain't trippin'

Cause we'll get there in a minute

Yeah, that's the statement for the mission

Swiss movement so my watch ain't tickin'

Who yo crew is

Them niggas is bums

Throwin parties don't any bitch come

They all at my art showin'

Me and my folks gettin drunk

Bangin' my sound from the wall mounts

Yeah, life under the scope

Everyday is a test

It's all day

Go, full speed, full court

Media, press

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

Turn over, make ya give the ball up

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

(Yeah)

Vintage egg chairs hangin' from the ceilin'

Naked beauties and plush pillows in em

Incense and fresh linen

I spit that complex venom

The real niggas it strengthens

The fake niggas it kills them

And the Big homie said

That he still got visions of the rooftop

As do I

George Jetson, Jefferson

Deluxe apartment in the sky

Niggas can't downplay me baby

I'm too high

Pilots speak I crafted these in my Impala seat

A New Orleans nigga

And I'm way in the NYC weed twistin'

On a mission and I'm fishin' for my nigga Ski Beatz

I been in the game, OG

Seen fools blow up

And blow it low key

Yeah, life under the scope

Everyday is a test

It's all day

Go, full speed, full court

Media, press

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

Turn over, make ya give the ball up

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

mixtape: Smokee Robinson (2010)

Jordan 3's lyrics - Curren$y

I got keys comin' from overseas

Ignition foreign exchange lane switchin'

Talk the same shit I said different

That's the difference

Them niggas pussy footin'

They ain't pimpin'

Them bitches just looking and choosin' when they see a winner

Smart decision

Could've been with throwback Jack

Still ridin' spinners

Flyer than Delta

I can help ya

Get your weight up

Like the spotter raisin' the bar and the plates up

Writin' my raps by my trap bitch in Decatur

Ass too round and fat to be a fake one

I'm makin' adjustments in preparations

While my program directors in my city

Are having a sleep over in the station

Pluck my ashes

Refuse to ass kiss

Slow mo in a fast whip

No socks my Stan Smith's

Summer time in the Winter

I'm fine my nigga

Homeboy just livin'

Yeah

Comin at you live

Fly, wicked

So we can only kick it if you high

Bitches

Like they seen it before they recognize

I keep it G to a T

That is I

License my flyness

Drop jewels from the sky

That's my crib

Where I live

Walk with these Jordan 3's

You'll be aight slick

Peel off like a New Era sticker

Out that bitch like a newborn my nigga

Smash On O'Leary lyrics - Curren$y

[DJ Don Cannon:]

Imma try something different on this one

Imma let this CD ride out

And I ain't gonna say too much

Don Cannon, [?] Smokee Robinson

Aw yeah

And I'm out, watch this

[Curren$y:]

Nigga I'm

Making moves word to Asher

Spliff crews recording my album and mastered

Flew to the moon 'cause they said it was made of cheese

Be it the strain or the vein, its all good for me

In the mix of the murderers

Strip club parking lot, chalked out

Cause drunk niggas refuse to talk it out

Stomping out lit weed clips, finger stingers

On the [?] actresses and related sisters

Its the king of this rhythmic linguistic killer shit

Rolling that weed, parental advisory sticker shit

Nigga fuck censorship

That crowd moved but I just couldn't get into it

I'm too big homeboy, simply couldn't fit

I concentrated on myself and I struck it rich

Was offered multiple incentives but I couldn't switch

But I did get switches on that S10 Blazer

Like Mr. Oscar, my pops parter slash next-door neighbor

Might run for mayor, feeling so player

Word to [?]

At the Source magazine photoshoot with my homeboy Wiz

On some live nigga shit, G'ed up

Chopped it up, ain't copped no cyphers, just chilled

Yeah

Ain't nothing going on but the bomb ass rap song

Ain't nothing going on but the

Hitting all night long

Fool ain't nothing going on but the bomb ass rap song

Nigga ain't nothing going on but the bomb ass rap song

Hitting all night long

Fool ain't nothing going on but the bomb ass rap song

Reset lyrics - Curren$y

You niggas is, cheap greens, artificial turf

Second in the presence of better, me first

Captain America vs Captain Planet

I control the larger area

Super hero, no cape

Delta force in the third grade

Now or Laters

Basketball cards in my school pants

How to be a player

Got to ask then you can't afford the movie, neighbor

Drop jewels like a butterfinger watch-maker

Money so old it deserve an in-home caretaker

I been talkin' this shit for a minute

Never been called out just been called that nigga

I paid dudes and I tipped em'

I ain't trippin'

Check yo' prescription

Lynches I'm not Pippen

We both scorin' but mine's more awesome

Bitches called him, we smell the weed in the Air Jordans, yeah

Over land, sea, air

Scratch it off the list after I been there

Yeah jets, everytime I drop bars the bar is reset

Stack change and I didn't change

Lookin' down on these fools

Balcony rap, I'm way too high for that, bullshit

So save it neighbor I'm on my paper

Bitch what you think this is

I only fucked twice

Girl what you think you did

Ain't nobody throw rice, spitta, ninja, precise, slice

Overheat never, under pressure, sweat ice, what's pressure

I never felt pressure in my life, it's been a cakewalk

Frosting on my nikes, don't let em' talk

Cut a hater wind short, Chevrolet bow-tie

Tips on the end of my exhaust pipe

Bitches at the window pray they hear that sound every night

But I'm out baby

You my homegirl but this not my house lady

I can't go for that

Hall and Oates these hoes

Fall through, get the cut, clean up, change clothes

Adherent to the jet code, you know how we roll

Bout It lyrics - Curren$y

I represent them jet planes, Young Roddy

Trademark, and Wiz do the same thang

Fly over the city where the hammers bang

Miracle to make it to this age in the physical

And not have fallen victim to violent crime

Living in these wildest times

Your assailant could be a partner of mine

Octogon signs can't stop a nigga when his mind on them digits

Did you figure I could take the day off how?

When tomorrow I'd be better than I am right now

Change clothes, change hoes, change in my ashtray

Pay the toll with a hundred I got the next 99 motherfuckas who coming

If I say that I done it, or doin it presently it's either that or I'm frontin

And that latter act is for suckers

Grape weed in the jar call it smuckers

Put it in the grinder while your up shut the blinds for me momma if you bout it

Is you bout it? Well say you bout it bout it

I roll one you match one if you bout it bout it

Trees in the blender got some kief at the bottom

Would of told you but I got high and I forgot about it

Jets nigga, bout it bout it, roll and match one if you bout it bout it

Smoke one for C-Murder you are not forgotten

You lookin for spitta you find me where it's cloudy, cloudy

Yeah nigga I'm rollin thru, orange coup, candy suit, chrome shoes

Attention given to spitta your bitch is ignoring you

You a simp homie she ain't like the way you think

She like "poor me some of that" she can't pronounce what I drink

Aspiring models, showing groupie love to them niggas with 20 bottles in the corners of them clubs

And on the real I been so old G, before my time when I was 17

My main girl was 25

Ain't seen nothin like it in your life

Hot spitta space jam, 11 flow, sole on ice nigga

Is you bout it? Well say you bout it bout it

I roll one you match one if you bout it bout it

Trees in the blender got some kief at the bottom

Would of told you but I got high I forgot about it

Jets nigga, bout it bout it, roll and match one if you bout it bout it

Smoke one for C-Murder you are not forgotten

You lookin for spitta you find me where it's cloudy, cloudy

Racing Stripes lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dom Kennedy)

[Curren$y:]

We don't fuck around with them fuck around niggas

That's why the baddest bitches be tryna get down with us

Taking risks, taking trips

Roll a dice, bet it all, we them niggas, bitch, right!

We on all night, lights

Living life fast in between them racing stripes

Living life fast

Full of that loud, got me quiet in the crowd, standing out it

Miami Vice minus Crockett and Tubbs

Keep the Ferrari, them two fools was the fuzz

Can't fuck with that, I'm sorry, cuz

I might be back tomorrow if the head right good

But level with me, I can't be up in here every night

Park Ave, Big Mac on these little nuggets, small fries

Keep that shit up out my combo, I'm up-sized

This is revenge, like when them Russians caught Alonzo at the red light

No bullets, just pens

No machine guns, just machine lip rims

Killing these bitches just the same

Hotel suites, them hoes lay, they get slanged

Go home to you, waiting on the couch to complain

Oh man, Spitta that nigga, how y'all man

Ugh, don't tell me, I was just playing, yeah

And we don't fuck around with them fuck around niggas

That's why the baddest bitches be tryna get down with us

Taking risks, taking trips

Roll a dice, bet it all, we them niggas, bitch, right!

We on all night, lights

Living life fast in between them racing stripes

Living life fast

[Dom Kennedy:]

Let's go!

Ocean in the back, Porsches in the front

This the life I want, baby, we only live it once

I let my fitted sit high cos I am really on my grind

And I got money in my pocket but it's really on my mind

And I like to fuck with girls, but I am really on my rhymes

Tryna make it to the top so I am really on my climb

And the way we finna shine is like the Sun and Moon combine

So when the stars is out, bitch, I just hope you don't go blind

Call me Mark Malo, but I don't serve them hoes no wine

Just [?] on the rocks, and I'm for sure them hoes is mine

Like I got her, and when I'm in your city

Nigga, watch her, I'm finna pop up (let's go)

That 9-11 drop with the top up

Watching how these other niggas watch us

I said, that 9-11 drop with the top up

Me and my nigga Spitta got it locked up, yeah!

[Curren$y:]

And we don't fuck around with them fuck around niggas

That's why the baddest bitches be tryna get down with us

Taking risks, taking trips

Roll a dice, bet it all, we them niggas, bitch, right!

We on all night, lights

Living life fast in between them racing stripes

Living life fast, uh

17.5 Cannons lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Don Cannon)

[Curren$y:]

Jets nigga

Yeah

Jets nigga

Next they'll be dressing like me

But back in the G they wasn't stressing like me

Good thing I had the balls to boss up

If not for that ain't no telling where I might be

Ain't no telling who you might see

No tint, got your world in my passenger seat, wassup

Dropped her off to you

With her fingertips and her lips smelling like weed

Nigga she been rolling it up

Laced locks on my Jordan Ones

Naw homie they ain't come like that

Ya'll remember Mr. Spitta

Mr. Month-After-Month

Panic, Don Cannon your nigga right back

Bitches just fell through with the loud pack

No cigars in my session my crew don't allow that wussup

Yeah

Paper planes, personals to the brain

Help a nigga deal with the ills of the game

The radio station playing favorites

And I don't even turn the TV on

Cause it ain't about the music artists making no more

Its all about scripted realities from their home

Fussing with their kids, fussing with their chicks

Hundred thousand dollars on the line

Run an obstacle course and eat a plate full of shit

Lose a hundred pounds, celebrate, get highed up

Go to the sober house, lay it down

I'm an artist get me the fuck out of here

Nick Diamond Supply outerwear

Two dope Caprice classics

Got suede interior in my slab bitch

So be careful where you pluck your ashes Tonguezilla what up

Yeah

[Don Cannon:]

Shout out to everybody supporting the Jets movement

Don Cannon the money machine

It's real special

Curren$y, Smokee Robinson

Roll up a doobie or something

And oh yeah

I don't let no projects go

Without having one of my joints on it

Ya dig?

The Candy Lady's Crib... lyrics - Curren$y

Bitches know the planes got it Bitches know the planes got it Bitches know the planes got it And where haven't haven't we uhn Vinnie Johnston get in the game, lay put up points quick microwave Industry coruption they tryin to point shaves Dummie down, why, when my audience is just as smart as I If you saw me, told somebody I bet they thought you were lying Fly where never in the space I'm in Never roll round corners that I've been High driving impalla slams, sparks flickin, trippin, scrapin the off ban Fuck it nothin of it my mechanic is the man, and them Hit em on the jack, the part replace that, asap that's that mothafucker Like a deffintion, O.GS watch me I'm a flow right out the television New aero bills reverse sitchin I'll I will re-invent the wheel Prerequisite, intellagence plus sexiness canidate to be a jet miss Queen for a day put cha on the foor of the mardi gras parade High and she smiling wave Brush up on it, get the rust off your moves my lil poney Which ya fine ass cold bottle and my grape cool aid and my wine glass Smokin amsterdam green with my fresh blue number 9's And my red headed honey from burmease Lip stick smears, pass port stamps, eyes simease cat lady the trance Shineing in my Marijuana trance Bull shit still waiti on me when I get back Deal with it don't run Square it up burn down another one You goin to the candy ladys crib wontcha bring me somthin Yea, yea, yea, and fuck them frontin' hoes, we don't think about em'

Yet Another Story... lyrics - Curren$y

Homie still hoopin', the ho still hoein'

Can't end the story, the story still goin'

Homie still hoopin', the ho still hoein'

So I'm still smashing this ho from over a year ago

You remember when I told you about the basketball player's lady?

We took a break but we've been back on lately

With me she been moving to NY City and homie being trady

Secret rendezvous, they came more complicated

Been for a week in the past two months

She been flying me to Vegas and buying me what I want

Trees and kicks all on the bitch I can't front

Monday trips paying on the expense of her man

She circling that 'passenger pick up' until I land

But in the midst of the fucking and gateway druggin'

Shawty done got sloppy, homie came up on somethin'

Bitch done forgot to sign out of her twitter

Now pimpin fishin' through all of our private DM's and

Online history show she's been purchasing tickets from a credit card in his name he didn't know existed

Now her iphone ringin', she answered it

I heard him on the other end panicking

Talking about when he see it how he gon' handle it

And what his goons gon' do to whatever man she with

I Don't Fucks With Em lyrics - Curren$y

[Curren$y:]

Uh yea

Grand national regal speeder

Americanoo magazine readers

Peep me in the fashion feature

My name Spitta nice to meet ya

Whats yo name, that's pretty I get you to the crib for I forget it

We kick it for a minute

But I'll kick ya out if I feel you tryna know to much of my business baby so chill out

Oxymoronic

Go to the sauna to cool out

We blow chronic in the pool house wut you know about it

Chevy "F" body cameros

Louisiana license plate we park em on melrose

New york pad coped california spot next

But I guess I play the telly for the mean in between mr clean kicks

Spent a couple "G's" in supreme

Paintins on my walls autographed jearseys and some flat screens

Smoove could dive in the water without splashin

Have you ever seen a shark with some wings

Word to these jordan 12's

I'm in a taxi talkin to Tidy B on the cell ,business as usual

Treacherous industry the musical

Heavy form in the game will do it to you but I keep it reduced to bud crumbs

Under my cuticles

Flippin on who ever guerrera juventud wcw rappers

This shit trill and ya'll playin

But that's expected from children wut am I sayin

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Yea

On the grind made something from nothing so niggas will hate it (niggas will hate it)

Try and play me on some sucka shit oh cause I don't Fuck with you lately

Money on my mind you can name a place I just bought a plane

And I'm on my way there (on my way there)

I'm smokin while I roll another one baby (baby baby)

[Nipsey Hustle:]

They say I spit that pistol grip poetry

It's just the loc in me

On my hip is 12 zeros after a quarter key

9 double "M" for you niggas that's not as cold as me

Dope cause I'm supposed to be

Slauson were my soldiers be

My story is ocean deep and my coast is controled by me

Bitches that ain't notice me now file my nails and lotion feet

I'm buzzin uncontrolably

Richer than with no release

Most of these rappers that's feelin like they is the golden C

H.I.L.I. to the D go ask yo bitch who fly as me

Fly as we Wiz Khalif Curren$y they certainly

Heard of me

Heard of we they beat the track while I merk the beat

Next time I sign I need atleast a bail for a murder beef

Fuck they web they searchin me I'm blowin up insurgency

9 11 portia and my car is an emergency

Carmen Sandiago were the hell on the earth is he probly some were gettin what's synonymous with Curren$y

Hussle

[Wiz Khalifa:]

Yea

On the grind made something from nothing so niggas will hate it (niggas will hate it)

Try and play me on some sucka shit oh cause I don't Fuck with you lately

Money on my mind you can name a place I just bought a plane

And I'm on my way there (on my way there)

I'm smokin while I roll another one baby (baby baby)

Monte Carlo Music lyrics - Curren$y

[Curren$y:]

Eight cylinders, two doors

A back seat nobody can sit in

No rust on my door hinges

There'll be no squeakin' when I get in

Spent a few dollars

To ride a old school Monte Carlo without a problem

Reliable as my newer whip, homeboy-

I Really do this shit

No tint on my windows:

Hella high with nothin' to hide

Pirelli tires clingin' for dear life

Them rims wide, my nigga

Four cars, one summer

Still east-side Spitta frontin'-

Like you don't remember

Had them rims matchin'

That was way back then-

2002-knowing who I was

But I didn't know you

The fuck you talking 'bout

In that shit cruiser

That you're dragging through the parking lot?

'87 Aerocoupe-I had that-targa tops

The King Arthur of the Car Club

Trophies tall as your oldest kid

Place them next to my Switchblade 86

Your girl asked to take pictures leaning on it

Made you sick

Floor shifting. A true SS

Not a clone with bootleg ground effects-

Leave that shit at home

Authentic- the description of all things Spitta

Roll a joint for my oil change niggas in fifteen minutes

Take two pulls, let my bitch hit it

Doing a hundred in the eighty-fo'

It's that monte carlo music, trillest shit I ever drove

Real Muh Fuggin Jets lyrics - Curren$y

You know I got love for the West Coast

Yeah

Nigga

Cannon, Cannon

Cannon

Some concerns bitch

Act like you know

I'm still

Sixteen switchin'

Still back bumper scraping

Patty-caking, frame to the pavement

They been looking for me, I bene on MTV lately

Chasing paper, macking to the latest

Smoking out vapor, riders

Laser red eyes, sun out where I'm driving

Dropping my visor

With my bad bitch, she a rider

Weed in the grinder, mind on a million

Patio on top of the building

Owning this shit, not renting

That's the shit that I'm spitting

I could pimp an alley-oop [?] I'm sitting

At the Hornet's game, and I'm eying them groupie bitches

You dealing with some real mothfucking Gs

Say I ain't the best, we'll mother fucking see

(Hold on mama)

Jets in this bitch, twist the mother fucking trees

Lemon Kush lyrics - Curren$y

Weed my shorty roll em while I'm still

Yea jets

Fool

And Don Cannon run your nigga right back

Bitches just fell thru with the loud pack

No cigars in my session, my crew don't allow that

Yea

Wake up in the morning wash my face and then I brush my teeth

Ain't gotta roll no weed, my shorty roll em while I'm still asleep

I'm caught up in that thang, mary jane got a hold of me

Environmentalist I'd handcuff myself to a purple tree

Snooty Trudy lyin' to me sayin' she ain't heard of me

Groupie who you foolin' you know you be youtube searchin' me

I'm startin' to believe these freaks is passin by us purposely

Hoping that we offer em sofa seats and we pour em drinks

Is you trippin' ain't no nigga sippin' nowhere close to me

Keep it pimpin' Jets up over bitches, how its suppose to be

Fire red five's with the ice sole, cold feet

Shout out to Bangladesh what it do we tryin' cop a beat

You know where we at if you need um

Somewhere in the scraper with the beats up

Something pretty with me rollin' weed up

She dog you cause you treat her like you need her

Make sure you see my shoes I kick my feet up

I made it cause I always stay g'd up

If I said it then you know you could believe me bruh

We keep it way to smokey in here to see us

Bitches flirtin' sex appeal cause we got that corvette appeal

Did it independent for the record, fuck a record deal

Did it for my niggas on the sets still at it

I asked um what's good in the hood and they sayin' shit happen

Wild niggas still clappin', cheese eatahs still rattin'

I seen it all before like a rerun of family matters

I'm laughin' at my partner, lost 5000 in that madden

My younger homie beat him, he 13 yrs old stackin'

I'm watchin' action jackson in the palace smokin' cabbage

Just relaxin' mixin' hashes till I feel like I know magic

I'm travelin' and seein' the mad jets, cashin' the mint checks

We got now you got next, and I know you mad stressed

How I made it through the stress: stamina, long wind

You think you fuckin' with the Jets, come on man

Better clean your lenses, fool you lookin' at the wrong man

Strong scented weed, old cars new bitches in the seats

Yea

Jets, fool

187 On A Beat lyrics - Curren$y

Yeah

Phips in the building

[?]

Yessir

Yah

It's 187 on

Any beat get dropped, Spitta stepping on

Step into the booth, welcome to the Terror Dome

You looking at the reason that she never home

It's like the weed smoke make pheramones

Put it in the air, let them know she good to go

Like food in a bag at a drive up window

Dude you a fag, what you looking over here for

Ain't nothing but a real ass nigga

Scaling the building on a ill ass mission

[?] trying to see how air craft living

Hanging in the hanger just chilling

Playing Scattegories with some bitches

Chicken catchatori in the stove in the kitchen

Shorty in the robe, I'm in some suede black 6's

Do rag flow nigga, laid back lyrics

One of the trillest to jump in it for a minute

All about business, amazing how I pull it off always twisted

Spitta David Hasselhoff, Michael Knight

Make a Trans-Am pop a wheelie like a motorbike

Rhyming to the women, karate kicking Dolomite

In the '72 Nova, rebuilt engine

Got the frame shaking like a polaroid picture

A lot of boys paranoid, worried about Spitta

Probably choking on their blunts when they saw me on the television

Knew they love it, saying they ain't fucking with it

Limewire it, download, drag and click it

Analyzed it over and over, study my delivery

Try to copy it and fail miserably

To be conducted in a lab, this is chemistry

Marvel high G from New Orleans

And this big dog from Harlem clicked up and made history

Yeah

And it's 187 on a motherfucking

(If you don't quit)

Beat

(If you don't quit)

Damier Doobies lyrics - Curren$y

Cannon, the cannon

Yeah

Jets, nigga

Mm (Cannon, cannon, cannon)

Don't get nervous

I just was bored

Yeah, I be- (there)

Sledgren, I see you, Cuz (Hold up)

Sledgren

Keep this shit on the record too, fuck that

I be fly out there

You be in the crib

Changing a hundred times

With the bubble guts

Nervous about what I'm a wear

Queeny ass niggas sitting in a king's position

Fuck out the throne

Might Kong that's my chair

Yeaaa

Jet wings been fly

Since Pimp C cop'd his first Byzantine

My niggas who been had change

They know what that mean

Cause they been had change and those type of things

Keep fresh bars laced with green

Irish Spring

Coach my team right

We all ball get rings

Hoes encroaching

Approaching

For proceeds

Groupies gross me

Fakin like they know me

Hot Spitta not the hospital bitch

Shut ya face

Roll weed

I keep it in my

I keep it in my Louie pouch

Bitch I keep it in my Louie pouch

Trees in my Louie pouch

I keep my trees in my Louie pouch

I be high out there

Walkin round Walmart

Open the slip-n-slide

Turn the aisle to a waterpark

Neighbors wake up

Come outside when my car start

454 roaring

7 o'clock in the morning

Takin 5 on cloud 9 if you looking for him

Tropicana Pomegranate Lemonade for an OG

Arrow in a shoebox on the Jordans

Had elephant print around the borders and the corners

It don't make sense tryna pose opposition to the Jets

Fuck around get mangled in the engines

Not pretty

I came in here

To put it down for my city

We just chillin

Blowin trees to the ceiling

My name Curren$y

And I came to get it

Lady Gaga built right

She can get it

Nice video Wale

You should've had ya dog in it

Mazaltov lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Nesby Phips & Wiz Khalifa)

Bartender, bartender, bartender

Make me a drink

(What you havin'?)

What you think? shit

Get me a (a Mazaltov Cocktail)

And (make it hot)

Yeah, and put a flame on it

So I can leave a stain on it

[Nesby Phips:]

Nod ya' head to the flick of my lighter

Fire to the ass of a joint get ya' higher

Never in over my head, I'm MacGyver

Even in the midst of the madness, I'm a rider

Heavy on the stamina, amateurs

Easily revealed than the presence of a panther, uh

Feline fantasies get fulfilled

Tell them canines chill

It's the leader of the pack with nine lives to live

What's a king without a queen?

Leader without a team?

Heater without a beamer?

Crops without the cream?

I'm self motivated so crops is not the thing

Approval of spectators does not bring the ring of a champion

Lampin' and I'm champagne sippin'

Touché not the cliché, my campaign pimpin'

Feel privileged if I played ya'

Plastic over paper

Magic over the Lakers

Happy to make your day, cuz

Bartender, bartender, bartender

Make me a drink

(What you havin'?)

What you think? shit

Get me a (a Mazaltov Cocktail)

And (make it hot)

[Curren$y:]

Ya' gets no love and I thought you knew it

How to wrap a groupie from the club to the jacuzzi

My vernacular, more spectacular than you dudes is

Word to truth in the booth, rappin confucius

Hardest rhymes out, bite my shit be left toothless

What I wear, what I smoke - both exclusive

Prime real estate, bitches see a nigga wanna build

Polar Bear pimpin' got yo women catchin' chills

Clear windows, see me sittin' behind the wheel

On the real say I won't, bet I will

But still, it ain't no fun

If the homies can't get a piece of it

Weed brownies in the oven

By the time she was buzzin', we was already fuckin'

Screamin so loud, she awoke my lil' cousin

Seen 'em in the morning, she was too embarrassed to say something

Bud, bitches, and breakfast - ya' gotta love it

[Wiz Khalifa:]

I'm smokin on some strong

Got some bitches who love to smoke bongs, papers, and bowls

So pretty much, any thing goes

Come and kick it, we'll blow some of this chronic smoke

Go to stores to cop shit even when they say they closed

These Louis, I suppose and right now, I'm high

My eyes so freakin low, I might as well keep 'em closed

You fuckin' with winners

Kush and orange juice on my eggs, flickin' my ashes on dinner, nigga

Bartender, bartender, bartender

Make me a drink

(What you havin'?)

What you think? shit

Get me a (a Mazaltov Cocktail)

And (make it hot)

Count My Money lyrics - Curren$y

[Curren$y:]

And I never came down from the last time, but that don't mean nothing, nigga still climbin'

Bitches popping bottles and they sipping pink diamonds

I took a break from the game and I seen these niggas clownin'

The blogs wouldn't be the same if you took Spitta out it

Props to the ones who instrumentally getting me poppin'

Ballin' without first learning the fundamentals, forget about it

Tryna 360 up the middle - you ain't even learn to dribble

Twiddling my thumbs, smoking lime

Watching hamster ass rappers run in wheels, going nowhere with they rhymes

Stuck, Glenn Robinson, big dog bucks, socks up, top down

Killing squares, riding 'round

Coolest nigga in yo city, even when I'm not in town

Smoking like I signed for 50 million and I'm underground, yeah

Uh, smoking like I signed for 50 million, still underground

Audio Dope lyrics - Curren$y

Aw naw, here your man go

With his same old songs 'bout Chevys and getting stoned

Meeting bitches in clubs and bringing them home

Cutting to the chase, don't even turn my flatscreen on

All around the world the same song

Cali bud strong, it's that love Faizon

So high, that my neighbors thought I moved out

Because your boy stay gone

Now tell me that I ain't got it and then keep a straight face, punk

Create that Elevator Musik and stay true to it

While you still trying to get your soul out the pawn shop, stupid

You lost your legs to that cookie cutter

The suits ain't letting you walk outta that deal, muhfucka

Potato chips, laid up, Frito, raise up

Got a couple bitches coming through to blaze up

They know where I'm at, they know what I do, they know I'm real rap

And I'm completely un-you, hold on, fool

And everything bad for a nigga nowadays so I drink a lot of water

Disgruntled rapper disorder, got a lot of MCs sneak dissing

Yeah, would've threw them slangs but I caught 'em

Be careful talking hella trash

I'll get that compacted to a handful and pitch it back at you

Take that monkey shit off, you embarrassing us, cuz

Put the game back in perspective

Niggas disrespecting it, suckas ain't protecting it

Just complaining about the state

And under the pressure they break

Turning into the very thing that they hate

Roll up, let it burn slow

Getting high, plotting on downing these turncoats

Audio dope, and we can make crack like this

Practice, we talking 'bout practice?

For what? I can do it in my sleep

Homeboy, I ain't been out my bed since '93

Audio dope, and we can make crack like this

Practice, we talking 'bout practice?

For what? I can do it in my sleep

Homeboy, I ain't been out my bed since '93

Audio dope, and we can make crack like this

Life Under The Scope lyrics - Curren$y

Yeah, my weed lit, my glass chill

Couldn't be concerned less how a hater feel

Car service only opportunity for rest

In between destinations a lil' hibernation

Life under the scope I gotta stay fresh

They just wanna see ya fallin'

The only reason the cameras out when ya walkin'

The only reason they listenin' when ya talkin'

Waiting on ya to contradict yaself

Albeit evict yaself from the house

Like when Beth instigated that situation

When Tami got David kicked out

Suckers tryin' figure my angle

Puzzled by my shuffle icky wood in the bengals

Adjust my wing rudders in the prescence of danger

Drop bombs on them niggas from the middle

And stay calm knowin' we belong on the top

But we ain't trippin'

Cause we'll get there in a minute

Yeah, that's the statement for the mission

Swiss movement so my watch ain't tickin'

Who yo crew is

Them niggas is bums

Throwin parties don't any bitch come

They all at my art showin'

Me and my folks gettin drunk

Bangin' my sound from the wall mounts

Yeah, life under the scope

Everyday is a test

It's all day

Go, full speed, full court

Media, press

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

Turn over, make ya give the ball up

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

(Yeah)

Vintage egg chairs hangin' from the ceilin'

Naked beauties and plush pillows in em

Incense and fresh linen

I spit that complex venom

The real niggas it strengthens

The fake niggas it kills them

And the Big homie said

That he still got visions of the rooftop

As do I

George Jetson, Jefferson

Deluxe apartment in the sky

Niggas can't downplay me baby

I'm too high

Pilots speak I crafted these in my Impala seat

A New Orleans nigga

And I'm way in the NYC weed twistin'

On a mission and I'm fishin' for my nigga Ski Beatz

I been in the game, OG

Seen fools blow up

And blow it low key

Yeah, life under the scope

Everyday is a test

It's all day

Go, full speed, full court

Media, press

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

Turn over, make ya give the ball up

They just wanna see ya fuck it all up

Stay Up lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Fly Union)

[Fly Union:]

Shit dun changed, and I'mma be the same

Never switchin' lanes, it's why I stay up in the sky

Yeah, it's why I stay up in the sky

Oh, it's why I stay up in the sky

[Curren$y:]

Yeah, I fell asleep on the plane

Woke up to cameras flashin' and people screamin' my name

They seem to think their agendas all hidden but they isn't

I been onto these swindlers for a minute

Bad girls at the party bein' tough and drinkin' Guiness

Though I'mma play it straight and sip a couple Shirley Temples

Low-key with a sober mental, at least until I get to my car

I got a joint to spark that's waitin' in my glove-compartment

Got to point to proved personal shit I admit I'm caught in

In the end we'll compare moves and then see who's the smartest

Somewhere between the rich and famous and the starvin' artist

I embody that, so I spit which will relate to all them... yeah, fool

[Fly Union:]

Shit dun changed, and I'mma be the same

Never switchin' lanes, it's why I stay up in the sky

Yeah, it's why I stay up in the sky

Oh, it's why I stay up in the sky

[Curren$y:]

Yeah, do it the Jet way

Put it in the air like I just called the past play

Them niggas wasn't there, they're just talkin' hear-say

Them suckers only in the hood on video days

When it's police barricades and video-tapes

Ain't bein' real, they just bein' real fake

I got real-estate, a couple plenty closin' dates, I'm straight

I know them haters was like "Homie gon' fall off, just wait"

Now they can't walk in their bitch crib without seein' my face

Chalk it up to wrokin' hard and constantly talkin' to God

Produce your Jet membership or you cannot come abord

We flyin' over you squares, fuckin' checker boards

[Fly Union:]

Shit dun changed, and I'mma be the same

Never switchin' lanes, it's why I stay up in the sky

Yeah, it's why I stay up in the sky

Oh, it's why I stay up in the sky

This Ain't No Mixtape (2009)

The Briefing lyrics - Curren$y

(Yeah, yeah, yeah)

Yeah

(About a hundred and fifty years in the making, nigga)

(Real life)

Jets, nigga

(Long road nigga)

Now, Independence Day, that was a mixtape

Higher Than 30,000 Feet, that was also a mixtape

Welcome to the Winner's Circle, that was one of my mixtapes

Fear and Loathing in New Orleans, one of my mixtapes

Uh, Super Tecmo Bowl, that was also one of my mixtapes

It gets a little fuzzy around here, uh

Fast Times in Ridgemont Fly, that was one of my mixtapes

Forgive me, I did too many

But uh... Fin, that was my last mixtape

And that brings us here

And see this, right here

This Ain't No Mixtape

I heard a lot of music, I heard a lot of mixtapes

This is not no motherfuckin' mixtape

Yeah!

Monsta Beatz behind the boards

Spitta in the booth

How long it took for us to do this, man?

I say about... a month and a half... y'knowwhatimsayin'

We did it all, courtesy of good weed, bad bitches and cold champagne

I had a good time

Dee-Low, did you have a good time?

Jean, did you have a good time?

Ridge, you had a good time, man?

Well, that's good 'cause we all had a good time

So we pretty sure y'all gonna have a good time

I know y'all digging this beat, y'all wondering what I'ma do wit it

If I'ma talk or just let it fade out

Or If I'ma get at it

(Jets, nigga, now where haven't we...)

Yeah, went solo on that ass but it's still the same

Niggas tryna jump ship to catch a ride on the plane

Niggas don't got shit to do they're throwing dirt on my name

I ain't got nothing to do but tie my big shoe strings

Louis pouch for loose change, couple joints of Mary Jane

A few Starbursts, you know who bought those cars first

You know who fuck them broads thirst

Them niggas flows be bad, you know who toss those bars worst

Spitta that nigga man star classman of the verse

Drug hip hop for my verse

Told her baby wake up, now may I play you a few cuts

Jets baby, you tryna see us then look up

By most I pulled two cuts, my Tesla roadster do donuts

I don't ride that bitch too much, I'm tryna keep the mileage low

I'm the difference between a yacht and a shrimp boat

You're the difference between a thrift store and trench coat

The difference between a Gulfstream and economy coach

This ain't a mixtape but dream this is really so

Snuck in the game, you lames left a crack in the door

We being stingy, we ain't givin' away swagga no more

So when we shop, we make the owners close down the store

Yeah, and they look up to the jets, nigga now where haven't we

And they look up to the jets, nigga now where haven't we... uh

Fuck boys wondering if they, yeah

Roll something up

Bitch, nigga

Get it Ya Self lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low)

I said fool, I drop them bomb-ass tapes

[Dee Low:]

To all my people on the right, you gotta get it ya self

To all my people on the left, go and get it ya self

To all my people in the middle, go and get it ya self

Man, you better get you cause everybody for self (for self)

Spitta, nigga, I do the music if you didn't know

Live from New Orleans, I host a show Arsenio

Niggas just waking up, they never heard of him before

Good morning, here's a mixtape and an espresso

Hey ho, let's go, I listen to the Ramones all the way home

Flowmasters on the Nova, the performance cones

Let you know who riding up the block, Curren$y currently

Got the stock rising, niggas cannot front on he, he got G's behind him

Let my girl drive, I'm passenger side reclining

So low, top's off, I thought she was driving solo

While I'm smoking a doobie, I swear my life is a movie

I swear my life is my music, I swear my life is a movement

To all my people on the right, you gotta get it ya self

To all my people on the left, go and get it ya self

To all my people in the middle, go and get it ya self

Man, you better get you cause everybody for self (for self)

I get it in like clowns in a Volkswagen

Paint it funny with the tailpipe dragging

Niggas asking mad questions "Spitta, what happen?

We thought you had an album coming after Where Da Cash At?"

I was laid back planning on receiving ass cap

Counted on before they heads, I fucked around and let 'em crack

Had to get another batch, way more careful

This time I'm gonna stash 'em, instead of carrying 'em

Looking for Spitta, I'm out in Cali with Lil Larry nem

Tally up the price, I'll have two of everything that's nice

Gotta the cool Corvette Z06 Arctic White, got the laces

On my shoes tied tight, alright like the hand that I wrote this with

To all my people on the right, you gotta get it ya self

To all my people on the left, go and get it ya self

To all my people in the middle, go and get it ya self

Man, you better get you cause everybody for self (for self)

And so uh, and so I go, the flow so dope, I got 'em hooked

Like I cast fishing line from a boat, live as kings dead long time ago

When the cribs was castles and they had drawbridges and moats

The people rode horses, I rode horses

600 of 'em in the back of this Porsche

Miss, didn't miss a beat, never met a beat that I couldn't beat

Never met a freak that I couldn't skeet, I'm a capital G, I did it all for me

Real niggas and bitches applaud, I work, I go hard, I put on, I shows off

To all my people on the right, you gotta get it ya self

To all my people on the left, go and get it ya self

To all my people in the middle, go and get it ya self

Man, you better get you cause everybody for self (for self)

Blown Away lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Jean LaPhare & Dee Low)

Blown away

So blown away, blown away

[Curren$y:]

Uh, raps I buss 'em

Problems with my life, don't discuss 'em

Coupes and leer jets, I lust them

Can't hear them haters talk, I'm above them

But they push me to do it, that's why I love them

Fitting snub in the Chevy seat

Nigga you see the future, that's ahead of me

And wish that it was cease to be

Buzz and cruise until it became a bang

Jet planes in the building, bitch we do our thang

Who the main maneuver

The coup in Vancouver

Canadian ladies is speaking the fly language

I'm partially famous, popularity gaining

They wondering when I blow

Am I gonna lose my other ground

So, the answer is hell no

I'm definitely maintaining, I'm way too G

The other niggas do their thang, but them niggas ain't me

Wear what you can't buy, that's why I'm what they can't be

Blown away

So blown away, blown away

Roll something up, Mama we can smoke in here

Sneak in here and wink, temps I never bought a pair

Out of dress codes, still getting in there

Girlfriend now rolling like a wheelchair

MDMA and THC combining

She high climbing into the truck

We ridin, jack move fool

Ain't no denying the cool

The mirror image ain't quick enough to mimic my moves

You niggas talk as shallow as a kiddie pool

Can't articulate themselves in their interviews

Rappers on a respirators, breathing through a tube

Reviving with the live shit, we make it good as new

Tired of hearin jive shit? My nigga me too

Bad bitches want the real, baby girl I feel you

Only thing I can do is move pen or pencil

Write and smoke my life away as I continue

Blown away

So blown away, blown away

Try to act like you ain't know The Planes got it

I'm in Chi-town smoking like a train Charlotte

Never match, they say I dress train spotter

I just stay up collecting sky mileage

I'm a high pilot

You must acknowledge the fact that I'm not a novice

Professional driver on a closed circuit

Monster Beats got NASCAR Spitta on them tracks, perfect

Grind outta my mind because it's so worth it

Enable Spitta to make a big purchase

3 story crib, driveway half-circle

Dodge Barracuda, nigga

Concrete surfer

Engine growling like a rottweiler trynna hurt ya

Bags of purple

Strong enough To Stephan Urquille outta Urkel

Spitta hand deliver fly verses free

Accidents on purpose

Scared of Monstas lyrics - Curren$y

You niggas scared of monsters (Jets, nigga)

This beat right here is a monster

Them niggas scared of monsters (Jets, bitch)

You already know what weed do to my mind, fool

Make stars align when I step in the sound booth

Rhyme patterns dripping battery acid on the tablet

Letters etched in stone resting next to my phone

Best I be left alone when I'm resting on my throne

Writing that's exciting you, upset cause your girl like it

I guess I'm a psychic, I told you that I would do it

Credit Spitta for repping New Orleans hard in his music

I was cool with Master P when Eddie Griffin was foolish

Paid a California girl that was into Karma Sutra

Don't believe in Santa Claus, but I believe in monsters

They'll beat your head off if I leave you around 'em

Stay within your bounds, some of them city niggas clowning

I'm just looking down from my private terrace, lounging

You just looking down cause I'm steady up climbing

So high, I feel the temperature drop in the climate

Cause niggas scared of monsters

Them niggas scared of monsters

This beat right here is a monster

Sweatpants and Bo Jackson's

Listening to Pac's teardrops and closed caskets

Story got told that was oh so tragic

Every day in the presence the same shit happens

Nigga get clapped and retaliation follow

Homie kill whoadie, whoadie's homie's gonna kill homie tomorrow

Oblivious hood, I ride in my Monte Carlo

Pinning my rhymes of happiness, not sorrow

So I don't shift from sugar niggas, a pusher

That's why when my brother offered me a burner I took it

Pray I never have to use it but I keep it baby

Cause it seems the cool niggas getting killed lately

And I'll be damned, never mind, I'll put it behind

Delorean doing eighty five, I travel through time

That's how I got that old game, leaning on the Azure

Mama said nice car, I'm like this old thing?

Cause niggas scared of monsters

Them niggas scared of monsters

This beat right here is a monster

Elevator Musik lyrics - Curren$y

Long night

Think I gave my last hundred to the fuckin' valet, damn

Good evening Mr. Jackson

I mean good morning, shit

Dang

Number four Jordan soles to the floor, steppin' through the elevator door

Select a level that I wanna be on, one push of a button be gone

Doors open in the living room of my home

Penthouse I own, I got it on my own

When I'm gone engrave that phrase on my tombstone

Nigga I'm in the zone, like the 1-3-1

Lookin' down on the super dome gettin super dome

New Orleans I roam, I love where I'm from

They know where I started they know how far I've come

If I said I'mma do it you could consider it done

My track record approve it I showed you for seven months

Mixtape after mixtape all was solid

Google my name and you could read all about it

No longer No Limit but a nigga still Bout It

No longer Cash Money still got fat pockets

Uhh, this is elevator music

All we do is ride around and get high too it

That's why we call it the elevator music (Look up it's the jets nigga)

This is elevator music

Cause all we do is ride around

And get high to it (Where haven't we been yet)

Uhh, a yessir

I got my lazy eyes on that prize dime right there

I pull up the coupe, it's like a pull out a chair

Because the girl broke a smile and just sat there

Yeah shit happen like that all the time, I'm used to it

I just take it in stride, split another, keep movin

Tie loose ends, burn a couple of frees

Chop fan business, burn a pound of haze

Moves get made, more funds to raise

Niggas wanna get paid, get high, get laid

And repeat those steps in that order everyday

My name in these streets, my name is my name

That shit that I say to remind you niggas

Even if you don't see me I'm around you niggas

I pound these bitches, dumbfound these critics

Just spittin' the shit that I'm really livin'

Spitta

Uhh, this is elevator music

All we do is ride around and get high too it

That's why we call it the elevator music (Look up it's the jets nigga)

This is elevator music

Cause all we do is ride around

And get high to it (Where haven't we been yet)

On My Plane lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low)

Yeah

Jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Could turn me up a lil bit though

Fuck boys is wonderin' if they bitch next

Everybody like "He's no item, please don't like him"

But the chance to sip cham with champs is enticing

Tried to fight the fever she followed them flashing lights man

And it's leading her directly to where I am

I stand G'd up as always

You can't knock it

Three cheers for spitta cause he always on his fly shit

I caught her eyes with sure hands like the legendary Jerry Rice

I give it to her right have her dreamin of weddin rice

She never smoke so much weed in her life

She high, I'm high

Too stuck to wake up

Remote control, shut the blinds

I wouldn't mind if we fuck a dozen mo times

Before you dip cause you gotta get back to your man

Don't ask when you can see me again

I ain't good at making plans

Cooler than a ceiling fan

Spendin winter time at iceland, I am

When I get too high on my plane

Will I remember how dope it was last time you came

When I get too high on my plane

And if I ever touch down in your city we could do it again

A rolling stone gathers no moss

I'm stoned

Rolling joints, flipping hoes like a coin toss

Niggas don't trust spitta cause he knock they hoes off

Homie I don't fuck witcha then there's no holds barred

Brung her to the club with you fool

That's yo fault

She chose to move with a boss

That's yo loss

Bitch niggas hatin on the jets so they throw salt

Mama lovin on the jets wanna take her clothes off

Homie in the car all alone as he drove off

He gone cry in the car

Won't see his girl till tomorrow

She at my crib in a bra

Dancing on top of the bar

Don't trip just friends we are

Shorty I'm goin far

And you see me smart enough to know

That I'm finna blow

Like a lit firecracker or some armed C4

Goin places and seein things

Fuckin hella bad bitches and not attachin any strings

When I get too high on my plane

Will I remember how get the plugs last time you came

When I get too high on my plane

And if I ever touch down in your city we could do it again

16 Switches lyrics - Curren$y

Yup, yea, yea, JETS, nigga

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Spitta

Nigga

(Took another pull of the potent)

16 Switches Spitta

(Dope tracks, he dozin', spitta get them...)

Ya'll niggas scared of monsters?

I don't bang, I spit the good rhymes

The whole scenery reminding me of Good Times

Cause I'm posted, toasted up

By my hood bitch, she rolling up ganja

I'm reading over scripts for a HBO drama

Mo' zeroes, mo' commas

Mo' pretty drunk bitches piled in my Impala

6-3 drop top, just like Doughboy

Do we got a problem?

Hope not nigga, just tryna have a good time

Cause I heard there's hoes out

Whoa now, told her I don't like her rocking with her toes out

I'm after Jenny with the Foamposite Pennys

These niggas is actors, they need Emmys

These bitches wear me out like Fendi

Again, these niggas is actors, give 'em all Emmys

These bitches wear me out like Fendi

Spitta!

I'm just lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the three wheel motion

Throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open

I'm just lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the three wheel motion

Throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open (open)

I even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp

And it read "Spitta, please don't quit

Cause you that shit, them niggas ain't like you

They don't make that shit to smoke and ride to like you do"

I admit that it's true, I'm good at which I do

I can show you the proof, cop a coupe and put the footage on YouTube

"Spitta you that nigga", ladies tell me on the daily

Hit my MySpace and put the ringtones on they cellies

I'm on the couch, eyes glued to the telly

Watching Family Guy, waiting for Brian to sing "Peanut Butter & Jelly Time"

Rarely I'm seen on the club scene lately

Cause in my city, it's a couple DJs hating

Homie I'm saying, nah fuck it, I'm laying up in the crib

Swiss cheese, sliced turkey on top of the Ritz

Cracker, that's that shit

When you get as high as I get

I got the munchies, tell your honey make some more for me, bitch

(Yea, yea, that's it, that's it, that's the one right there)

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open

I'm just lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the three wheel motion, throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open (open)

Lokin'

Sunroof open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the 3 wheel motion, throw him

Dope tracks, he goes in

Spitta get them bitches wide open (open)

I'm just lokin'

Open

Took another pull of the potent

Hit the 3 wheel motion

He goes in

Get them, wide open

The Jets Son lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low & Jean LaPhare)

[Curren$y:]

Bet you never met a nigga like me

Spitta came for the Nike's, these checks written off

Payed to the order of, he who resides in the high-rises

Above the city of crime, our music changin' their minds

Opening eyes, you witness history

I am the epitome, of a nigga doin' what he please and getting cheese simultaneously

Their flows ain't as craze as these

I got a million of 'em, bet you out there, get the crowd moving with any of them

Got them going, got 'em coming

Spitta revolving. Don't go around, merry-go

Suckas marry hoes, and try to turn them into housewives

After the show, she into telling with us, she's surprised

[Jean LePhare & Dee-Low:]

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

[Curren$y:]

Gorilla in the mist, still on my Bape shit

Play with hoes in my Playcloths, shout out to the Clipse

Stroll through the mall, stop for some chicks, took a couple pics

Asked what's the same ole' shit

Oh so, play them old whips, you know how I roll

Chevy so fast, shawty's scared, ridin shotgun with her eyes closed

Niggas know I buy O's, like I'm on the Wheel of Fortune

Hope you get it, won't be too surprised if you didn't

Have to take a second listen, be my guest I ain't trippin

Women tell me you ain't like the other rappers, you different

Cause I don't put on a front, I put on for my city

I put my niggas on, and I put them on some bad bitches, yeah!

[Jean LePhare & Dee-Low:]

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

[Dee-Low:]

You know how it go down when I come in this bitch, ya heard me

Walk like a pimp, nigga talk real dirty

Ladies love my boy like I'ma prince or something

So I just chill back and play with their tits or somethin'

They don't mind, they be like "Go, Dee-Low!"

After the show, they like "Can we come, Dee-Low?"

Nah give me your digits and I'll give you a call

You know I'm all booked up, sorry ho

What do you expect, I'ma pimp, a balla' ho

You see the crew, you see the bong, you see the plane color floor

J-j-just watch us, I glow

If you Dee to the Low, me and Spitta bout to take a trip to Tokyo

[Jean LePhare & Dee-Low:]

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, you should stop doing me

And stay in your own lane, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga get your swag right

I'm doing my own thing, nigga-nig-nigga get your swag right

Sail On lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Chris)

[Young Chris:]

Gunna! (Sail on!)

Shit was all good while it lasted, but I can't keep on sailing

As long as the fiends keep on itchin', nigga, the grams keep on sellin' (that's right!)

Bottom of the roost, from the heart of North Philly

To the top of Hollywood, model bitches, Cali-good

I got something that they need, that they want, I'm the supplier, shorty

Low numbers on them pretty bitches and it's FIRE!

Ghetto be my prior, I be the one that they admire

Home of the flier, I gotta become a retire, it's a rap!

I got it from here, yes I solemnly swear

This is a global introduction, a hottest premiere

Been the fuzziest year, staring out of my rear

Fuck the pussy police! We got shotties to air

Never dead body, a pair, paid a pussies a visit

Never mind being tense, never fuck a statistic

Never disappearance, and nobody know why he did it

Its just the code of this shit, and we live it, Curren$y kick it

(Uh kick it)

[Curren$y:]

Yeah!

One of the masters of the drug flow

Anti-club dress code, I just ignore those

Narnia lions, different dimensions in my wardrobe

Thinking' on the outside of the box like a barcode (Sail on!)

Like a seven-foot center, Spitta don't gotta cross over

I just stay in the lane, show off dunks and hang

From my goals obtained, planes boarded

Though I was already soarin', you smell it in my clothes

Mixed with cologne by Ralph Lauren

Spitta missin', you lookin' for him?

Take a number, nigga never home

Gotta call me on the yacht

Floatin' out, bottles poppin' before I left the dock

Who is that in the Vinny Jack bumpin' Super Cat, XJ 12?

Soft top, retractable shell

Parking near the boat launch in Paris, spending french bread

Nigga croissants, I got a flow that you can sail on

Yeauh!

[Commodores & (Curren$y):]

Sail on, sugar! (Yea, yep. They look up to the Jets nigga, now where haven't we...?)

Good times never felt so good (Wondering if they-)

Sail on, sugar! (Crookin' their necks and they lookin' up to the JETS)

Good times never felt so good (From the mansion to the yacht deck)

[Curren$y:]

(Uh)

Spitta is chillin', jeans, paper, denim

Milk and Oreos with the double stuffed filling

On the internet, ordering another engine

For the lavender Chevy with the suede grey innards

Seen niggas go insane trying to get it

The thought process of a first place winner

JETS nigga! We enter the dragon, got Bruce Lee in the go-yard

My lethal kicks cause damage

Vaca Puff Sour Diesel in the hammy

They hated on it, said that it could never happen

I waited on em as my plan was bein mastered

Have patience cuz the best is the last laughin'

Slashing, dashing, through my defenders, no look passin'

Bitches in the rapture love my rappin' with a passion

And I'm... New Orleans fliest

Do rewind this, The JETS get the highest

(Uh)

[Commodores:]

Sail on, sugar!

Good times never felt so good

Sail on, sugar!

Good times never felt so good

Got It lyrics - Curren$y

They look up to the

Fuck boys wonderin

Bitches know the planes got it

Incinerate the streets

The moment that my size 7 Bapes graze concrete

Every step I take bring me closer to the roaster in the villa

Wakin up to chilled mimosas

I do it how a real nigga supposed to

I obligated myself in '02

When I seen Soulja Slim bring that lac truck through

I'm the truth these niggas is daffy

Duck ass niggas keep quackin

But I can't hear ya I got a sound proof cabin

Roll down my window just to pitch out yo wack ass album

I got you hot on the street... literally

I'm like yo promo team my lolo green

10 switches in the button for james bond smoke screen

I'm a hard act to follow

Niggas need luck better rub that log at the apollo

Bitches know the planes got it

And you can't do a thang about it

Bitches know the planes go it

And that ain't gone change I'm sorry

I'm so sick with it one listen

Might have niggas coughing n sniffling

My pockets is fatter than peter griffin

Green in em like my rollin papers

Had a couple niggas round me that I know was haters

Gave em enough rope to hang themselves that's how I played em

Broke they own necks you see they body swayin

From the ceilings n they mental prisons

Closed minds wasn't open to the fly living

Soon they understand that they never stand over my niggas

Tabulate the statistics

Congratulate the victors

We leave lames as air strike victims

I'm on my shit

These karate carbon copy jockin my kicks

I'm at work in my play clothes

Louis luggage on the racks of the range rove

Murder on the beat cased closed

Power Button lyrics - Curren$y

Rock astronaut suits by the BBC

Jets nigga

Shout out to the big homie, shout out to Big Ben

Ferris Buller

This ought to be good for like a whole box of lettermans and hoodies and all that shit

Word to Trademark my style need a padlock

Moon man suited up I'm an astronaut

You mad because I does what you cannot

Crib fit for a king, you would swear I had an architect from Camelot

Inspire niggas to go, how could I ever stop giving niggas the hot

The rhymes I rock inspire fly niggas to shop

And bitches rub they titties like they did for big pop

Spitta keep it honest diamonds and dollars

In the Bahamas slice ya wifey like an avocado

Blame it on the moscato, she went crazy with the bottle

Fly Vision, I seen it all through aviator goggles

Las Vegas, heavy wages, stakes raising, poker faces in the red label

All large, I roll up like zig-zag papers

Shocked they ass, give em this taser

I get it on like the power button on the remote

So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

I get it on like the power button on the remote

So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

And I'm so sure that them suckers over there

Ain't making the same shit we making over here

Them niggas switching the rules they ain't even playing fair

Originality seemed to have vanished in the air

I remember a time

Back when niggas could rhyme

A I-Pod and a ride a nigga bumping the tribe

Got my pedal to the metal in my De La Highs

Me, myself, and I

Me myself I'm high

See I sleep in my eyes

Gotta keep a disguise behind enemy lines

By the time they recognize that I have arrived I done entered they mind

Sneaker Freak and baby who could be more sneaker than I

Spitta be the equivalent to a bed of nails

He who sleeps on Spitta will not sleep well

Got cheese and Guac, nigga Taco Bell

I been had this bread it's all moldy and stale

I get it on like the power button on the remote

So roll with us or you'll choke on the jet smoke

Up Here lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy)

[Curren$y:]

Niggas know, the lyrical molesting has taken place

Second guess and spit, vicious ain't safe

Concetrated on the album fell back from the tapes

Soon as this is done it's back to square 1

It's the return of the real life live nigga no tint

Ride fly, Don't hide

Record label meetings I'm high in 'em

Got a nigga stressed

They don't want to cut the check

'Less they they feel they'll get a major ???

Try to put me in a house nigga suit

So they could present me to the press

But I built my own house and you're an unwelcome guest

My heart, my mind is where I hit my wealth first

My pocket and my bank account came next

C6 'vettes, G-5 jets, 20K bets, while you niggas still in debt

Wondering what I'm doing why haven't I dropped yet

I'm on your bitches mind and a haters neck

I can't see you niggas from up here

And I can't hear you niggas from up here

So I ain't too concerned you're doing down there

Cuz it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

When the wheels touch down

You know the jets are in town

Smoking from the personal pound

I leave ground still high after the plane land

Your bitch with me,you left us 17 voice mails

Nigga daaamn

You're myspaceing and facebooking, looking for your girl

To no avail , she's been tooken

Spitta and that jet music what she get used to it

Can't beat us, can't join us neither

We dont need ya, got our eye's on the prize my nigga

We dont see ya,niggas starving for attention

So they throwin' bait to the sky fly fishin'

I ain't trippin cuz them simpletons ain't even in a nigga division

This is real rap, them niggas is real whack

I'm standing in the customer service return line

With my microphone, trying to bring hip hop back

I can't see you niggas from up here

And I can't hear you niggas from up here

So I ain't too concerned what you're doing down there

Cuz it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

[Young Roddy:]

Since the clock don't stop I'm getting money in a rush

And All the shit that I heard, I kept it on the hush

And now I'm fly as fuck, and I don't need no kush

Just smelling like purple haze mixed with the million bucks

And mamma told me: hold it down,she doesn't ask for much

So I'm on my Jefferson shit, im movin up

And my Texas homie told me that in a year they'll screw me up

And never will I ever touch girl without guts

Real niggas call it skills and fake niggas call it luck

So most niggas pay vaginas, so most niggas get fucked

And I still run the city like a RTA bus

But I'm still hard to find like a diamond in the rough

Yeah a trendsetter so they copy how I do mine

And nigga switched his hustle when I got a new grind

We keep jars of kush, no grey poupon

And circle locked and safe, nah, we dont need no new guys

[Curren$y:]

I can't see you niggas from up here

And I can't hear you niggas from up here

So I ain't too concerned what you're doing down there

Cuz it's that sucka shit and I'll not allow it around here

Food 4 Thought lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Amanda Diva & Mickey Factz)

[Curren$y:]

Burn slow like joints of purple

Hot Spitta, jet nigga ya'll know

Roll 84 down bumpy roads

Take Kanye advice: drive slow

Niggas think they tough they not macho

They soft, soggy nachos

That's mine doggie not yo's

Style, gear, ya got it from here

No worries, raps I got plenty to share

I'm on top I did my ground work last year

You could pass go you could pass the ball

But don't pass me the reggie that you're growing in your backyard

Shit might hurt me fuck my raps off

Aurora Borealis blast make me blast off

I came I kicked that shit

Shoulda took my Chris Webber Air Max off

Come on and take a bite

Of this food for thought

Let it ease your mind

Let it take control

[Mickey Factz:]

I was born in Roswell

Performed and dropped hell

It's the lyrical Norman Rockwell

And I have to be seen

Call me the king looking for my Alexander McQueen

Mean, I'm giving soul food to protools

That go through your brain waves, you like it don't you?

Don't move, and ya'll won't late

It's John Coultrane with this raw propane

I line 'em up like we on Soul Train

Cause rappers stink like raw Lo Mein

And I paint pictures like Claude Monet

So when you listen to me it's like you snort cocaine

I scored [?]

She heard of me

It's Mick Jordan chillin with Steve Curren$y

Emergency, come talk to a beast

Whose givin' you food for thought

It's all you can eat

PEACE

Come on and take a bite

Of this food for thought

Let it ease your mind

Let it take control

[Amanda Diva:]

Hot like pepper pot

Sweet like sour sop

West side born

But the spice isle in my heart

Boss like the man Barack

People listen when I talk

Start of the movement

I'm the spark that got the game on lock

Took my spot

I foxed the lot

Didn't see me coming

Bgirl I can pop and lock

But Got them boys running man

Like water they want it and I got it drippin

A lady they buggin if they think they'll be sippin

On this nectar

Next to greatness empress of the rhythm

Rising to the top/ like cream of the crop

I redeem all the little women like Alcott

Give em someone to believe in not a black girl lost

And the table's been set we preparing a feast

Something for the mind spirit and the body

Cookin up the future with these rhymes and beats

So go and get out the kitchen if you can stand the heat

Galaxy lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dee Low, Jean Lephare & Wodinsky)

Uh now why you want to go and do that love?

A pretty thing like you in this wack club

I'm figurin you should tell your friends that your exiting

With spitta, remember the one who wrote in your direction

That's him that's me came here one deep

Tryna leave plus one the ship got two seats

I can tell by your size 3 jordan OG's

That your hip to the fly mama where you hide your wings

I'm sure when your out men say strange things

Grabbin ya, shakin ya, breathin stankin ya face n shit

They the pilots for one night relationships

My neihbors rich I just lay back and do spit

Ya hungry? I can check in the fridge

Throw somethin together I can cook a lil bit

Right quick pancakes bacon n cheese grits

She textin her friend like girl this nigga the shit

Welcome to my galaxy

Come and feel my energy

Ain't nothin but space around

And you can be my star

And you could be my star

Welcome to my galaxy

Come and feel my energy

Ain't nothin but space around

And you can be my star

And you could be my star

Uh, let's fly over your home

Higher than 30000 feet pass the ozone

Pass the joint to the nigga with the mild tone

Mama how quick can you put your digits in my cell phone

I switch em like I do my kicks and this is well known

Look how I switch two different girls in the same song

Say its wrong but who do we place the blame on

Games we play because on us they was played on

Dead wrong but don't make it right

And the patron is telling us to call it a night

We tryin fight the urge to splurge and blow purp

Watch revenge of the nerds fuck until we both hurt

Girl our heavy bottomless in the fly society shirt

Doobie in that villa you are not of this earth

The doctor who delivered you witnessed the stars birth

I was here before her but she still came first

Welcome to my galaxy

Come and feel my energy

Ain't nothin but space around

And you can be my star

And you could be my star

Look Up To The Jets lyrics - Curren$y

They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Bitches know the planes got it

No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks

Cooking up another batch

Motherfucker you know

[Curren$y:]

Brazilian bitches rolling my green leaves

Laying with they clothes off

Mahfucka I'm spitta, proved to niggas I wasn't a quitta

They thought it was over until the Jets took over

Act like you don't see it pimpin look up we cloud surf

Homie you can have the streets the sky is my turf

My work done doubled over the summer you in trouble

Cause the labels know I'm sure to do my numbers

The checks get cut like chef sliced cucumbers

Rocked first season BBC to the season opener

Half time we probably with the club owners

It ain't enough room in this city

About to land planes on some niggas houses yes

Homie come up out it this is our shit

Ask your girl who she rep she say jets

And in the steps of Michael Jordan

I won't claim to be the best

I just let my work speak for itself

They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Bitches know the planes got it

No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks

Cooking up another batch

Motherfucker you know

Bitches know the planes got it

Had it in the back so long I forgot about it

Club couch with a purple cloud around it

Bitches crowd around it I just lay back on my shy shit

Me and Young Roddy on our high shit

We don't know the difference between yo bitch or our bitch

But it was clear when your bitch got in my whip

Hot Spitta my music the soundtrack to the life every rich nigga

Niggas familiar with Recaro interior and rear mounted engines

My addiction to luxury livin is serious

Recording in a padded room my flow is delirious

They look up to the jets nigga where haven't we been yet

Fuck boys wondering if they bitch next

Bitches know the planes got it

No dope boy, I'm in the kitchen with crack tracks

Cooking up another batch

Motherfucker you know

Top Of The Money lyrics - Curren$y

Yea... Yea... Yea

This ain't no mixtape

Damn we might have just named my album

Yea... Yea... uh

Grey polo sweats, yellow gold rolex

Blue facial mask, ya'll niggas ain't on that

One of the best rappers, you ain't heard yet

Though over the years I've enjoyed minor success

Where would underground rap be minus the jets?

At home living inside it's all kind of depressed

Gotta watch where I step, there's all kind of traps

Trying to keep me on the ground, I ain't got time for that

Trying to put me in my rhymes where we supposed to be at

Fly society mansion with swimming pools in the back

New Orleans what's happenin?

Yea your dude is back

Might see me in traffic in the Caprice classic

With the windows crackin, it's me flicking my ashes

Cut the check and I cash it

Blow it all on glasses

95 air maxes and mad pounds of Cali

No socks with the bad ones them bitches keep lookin at me

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money, like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Got deals on the table, silverwares and napkins

The right moves they help me take care of my family

Two coups will make me more of a chick magnet

Spitta destined for greatness I always knew it would happen

I just laid in the Gap like one of the store mannequins

From the back burnin my attack I was plannin it

And now I'm bendin corners in the Nomad Wagon

Sittin them 22s with the staggered fittin

Fishtail tail whippin I'm burnin rubber my tires spinnin

Spittin what I'm livin never lyin in my lines

I'm the truth in the booth hit it real when I rhyme

They see me on my grind and they be like aw shit

Spitta fly that plane he gone make em all rich

We just do our thing we don't listen to your shit

We just listen to ourselves we the niggas ya'll bit

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money, like the dope boy mattress

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

Passin broads in my car they be pointin at it

I'm on top of the money

Like the dope boy mattress

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