You See It lyrics - Curren$y

Poolside, too high with three bitches for four nights

I'm finna dip, be outty 5 in that 600 Benz or that 750i

Ate 9 slices of that humble pie

But you know I still talk my shit, right?

What your tryna hear when you high?

What you wish they played on the radio at least one time?

It's cool though! We getting major paper on the underground

You thought it was them other fools, though it was us the whole time

Them haters tryna deplete my shine like Venetian blinds

But son do what the sun do: rise

Hit the game like a Piñata, tryna get a prize

Outta riding, got me my bottom bitch, she give me the best top

A sex pistol getting shotgun in the drop

Best to wear your mittens, baby girl, cause I got

My top down, bitch in a bikini

My weed loud, I know you hear it screaming

I'm here now, what's going on this evening

You could look the other way but I know you see me

I know you see it, I know you see it

I know you see it, nigga, I know you see it

I know you see it, I know you see it

You could look the other way, but I know you see it

Courtside, a few drinks

Cussing at the referee, his officiating stinks

Spitta Andretti, I'm money on wheels

Like a Brink truck weight tough, nigga never budge

I'm a sphinx, what? Marvel at my stance

Ask your girl what she think, she can't even respond

Cause her mind is now mine fool, I ain't lying

'Less it's cross the couch, sleeping with my shoes on

Just in case I have to wake up and be out, once again it's on

Mama bring my bong to the gameroom with nothing but some panties on

And them Bape socks that I gave you

Never once on probation but your man's on his papers, spending them

Stacking them, filling them, wrapping them, lighting them, never passing them

I rolled it up myself and I don't remember your help

That's how we do it now, fall through the Jetset manor

Bring your own ounce, this is new Jet City, baby girl, rub yo titties

My top down, bitch in a bikini

My weed loud, I know you hear it screaming

I'm here now, what's going on this evening

You could look the other way but I know you see me

I know you see it, I know you see it

I know you see it, nigga, I know you see it

I know you see it, I know you see it

You could look the other way, but I know you see it

Televised lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Fiend)

The reeferlution will be televised

[Curren$y:]

From High Times Cannabis Cup judging the red

Carpet parties in New Orleans for my homecoming

Bring your own buds in for test inspection

'Fore access is granted to my section

My diesel East Coast, my kush is Western Conference

Chronic, nothing but bombest

For the elitest of rhymers and beat designers

You smell these trees leaking through your equalizers

A boss on them raws though I started with them EZ Widers

OG daytons nigga not them eagle wires

A couple niggas from the old block mad

So when I visit I park my lo-lo in the grass - to keep an eye out

Smoking one for the homie on the mural as I ride past

If I was drinking, I'd have poured some wine out

Knockin' Frank, Amy Winehouse

Candy paint on my skybox, tell a square bitch "watch out!"

The reeferlution will be televised

We getting money now

The reeferlution will be televised

[Fiend:]

The new-school coupe just left the paint booth

Got me stepping like a Nupe, barking like a Que

G'd up music, we spark a barbeque

Got a '70 Carlo named after daughter too

X-Men Wolverine blue, you can see the water too

Oak wood turning, know what we burning

Absolutely, baby! International Jones, jet life

Iron Gang and the air is our home

Paper plates in our sportsman's paradise?

You were smoking with ? what do I sacrifice

Paint job fine as the hair on a frog's back

The green you bringing better glow or stank or we don't want that

Get my liters from Houston

Monsta Beatz on the heat that we using

My engine sounds like it's been juicin'

Chick bad my stick, I'm shooting

Spitta Andretti, what we call it? Reefer

[Curren$y:]

The reeferlution will be televised

Yeah mama, we getting money now

The reeferlution will be televised

This Is The Life lyrics - Curren$y

Still rolling in my El Co on them thizangs

Niggas fucking up, they ain't fucking with the plizanes

Hits from the bong, cali strong got me feeling like I

Could kill a man, but I rather kill a bass line

These coke laced lines too dope for most they turn they noses up

Real niggas turn the music up, moe

Looking out the cracked windows sound in the smoke

Got ya high off both drugs audio

Y'all ain't got the heart for it. getcha cardio

In order bro, running for the money pockets double stuffed oreos

Party over here, bitches feeling like shit

In the morning though, it's the shift life

With the jets with fair warning ho, call who you gotta call

'Fore we be off I live far and your phone might not have bars

Babydoll, break that weed up for me, I break you off something have

You running yo mouth leading yo friends to me

This is the life, break down and roll up

Poolsides on rooftops, this is the life

Motor under glass like a pheasant

Jet plans under wraps like presents

Stayed in my lane gained leverage

Executive check my credit was merited

We hustlin together better than going in blindly

Expectations not met fools get ejected

Dropped like a Pharcyde record

Gone into hiding like a canvas topped off what im driving up

Riding up the block they think I'm moving in an autobot

Hop out, photo ops, scan for the cops if they not about

Light something for the cool niggas roll another one for the ride

Keep that bag thats all you nigga, I'm out

On another mission steady paper twisting

Even when I was a broke nigga, bitches paid attention

On another mission steady paper twisting

Even when I was a broke nigga, bitches paid attention

This is the life, break down and roll up

Poolsides on rooftops, this is the life

On G's lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy & Trademark)

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no loot I can't get at y'all

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no cheese I can't get at y'all

At ease

As I move with my jet set feeling the breeze

I'm in your ear like a death threat

Got you wondering if I played my best hand yet, you ain't seen nothing

I'm in your house like plumbing, in and out of your woman

And I'm up getting high cause my crew up and coming

Different chapters of my establishment

Posted up where it's cold, refrigerator magnets

Then it's back to the N-O, lab life, stacking rapper chips

Rhyme a few bars to buy my homies some cars

Then I say a few poems and buy my moms a new home

Spitta kush king, bong next to my throne

Scribble in my notepad 'bout my city's wrongs

And I try to make it right through these songs

It's niggas tryna make it through the night, let alone make a million

Get it on nigga and show off when you get it

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no loot I can't get at y'all

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no cheese I can't get at y'all

[Young Roddy]

And on the set, shit get live, it's all action

But where I'm from, shit get real, it's no acting

In the 12th grade with 20 grand in my khakis

Life under the scope, them bitches keep looking at me

But picture living where these niggas don't fear a thing

This wicked world got a nigga numb, free from pain

And all that dirt I did, I still remain with no stain

So I twist it, smoke it by myself, clear my brain

Them sober nights drove a nigga damn near insane

I saw it all but never will I tell a thing

Can't think of one thing to lose, and 'bout a million things to gain

So I charge this to the game

But soon as I got my change, they say I changed mane

They told me state my name, I'm Roddy from the planes mane

These unfamiliar faces lookin' at me strange mane

But I'm no lame, these niggas know what I claim

I keep it trill to the day, I put that shit there on the Jets

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no loot I can't get at y'all

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no cheese I can't get at y'all

[Trademark]

Through the lights, cameras and flashes, bong snapping and action

I'm focused on this paper, money transactions

Is what I'm after playa, was taught as a young'n

To move smart and get my weight up

Federal reserves papers by the layers, and weed by the acres

Bitches by the dozen, just watch me come up from nothing hater

Greater things await for those who remain patient

Yeah, that's real talk, matter fact a true statement

But still I grind case in the end I want more than Nathan

Smoking kush, tryna ease them thought with vapors

But my mind stuck on getting big faces

Racing toward the guap, these niggas still chasing

Running in place, tryna catch up with they replacements

Made it to the majors, live from the basement

Straight to the rooftop with spacious living spaces

With cases of the Clicquot, trees in different flavors

Running the game the OG's gave us

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no loot I can't get at y'all

On G's, niggas ain't fucking with my team, at all

Fall back dog, if it ain't about no cheese I can't get at y'all

Money Machine lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy & Trademark)

Jet Life

Roll one up for them haters

I'm just counting my paper

Jets count millions

Write my way to a million

Looking out the plane windows

Yeah - Tony said Frank wouldn't last

Now Frank's woman upstairs packing bags

Survival of the fittest

A sponsor no longer living

Plight to these kept ass bitches

When the dreams all ended

And then the bars slam, casket closed

Welcome to the school of hard knocks

You ain't know you was enrolled?

Cold, I know

What's colder is these streets

When your name no longer hot, you feel me?

Seen niggas and bitches go through

Dope game and the music

Lifestyle hard to attain

But it's easy to get used to it

Try to maintain, under pressure

Only few do it, and that's what inspires you to try

The gleam in your eye

Manifested in your mind

Then you start your climb

Remembering whoever you step on to come up

You may meet them another time

Fuck 'em, doe

Cause if the foot was in the other shoe

Them niggas would stand on you to get a better view

Telling you the truth, while taking them to school

Fools don't think how I think

Can't see these lines like I scribbled

In invisible ink in these tablets

Jet Life Commandments

Thou shall not rest until I make my whole fam rich

Fuck you take me for?

One of them sucka niggas

Who forget the set when he blow?

Never that, JLR

We'll have his whole world changed by tomorrow

Lighters and Ozium in my car

In no way am I playing with y'all

When I say I'm so high, if I was to trip and fall, I'd land on Mars

But don't mistake my highness for blindness

Giving me them fake smiles

I know what's behind them

I swim with the sharks everyday

You back stroking with the guppies

Supposedly big dogs get

Chopped down to puppy size

Utterly euthanized by these flows

I've been crafted, secretly in my labyrinth

Sleeping on a charred mattress

Nights so hot, get that girl to the pool before she pass out

Livin in a landmark

New Ferrari underneath the car port, pull my landshark

Invite me to your party

Reserve me somewhere to park

I'm not sure what you thought

Fuck pullin off onto my lot

You got twenty minutes free?

How bout a fast brunch

Pitch me whatever proposals you want

But no promises though

I got a lot on my plate

No ham omelets, I'm on my conglomerate

Word to the kid, Willie the fly, always on top of shit, really

Yeahh

Roll one up for them haters

I'm just counting my paper

What's What lyrics - Curren$y

I'm not new to this I grew in this

Jet pimpin 420 vision maneuvering

Not injured though, limping when I walk

That's that Max Julien who's cooler than

Broke bitches don't waste time pursuing them

I like my chicks speedy bag minicoopering, Karmaloop'd and shit

I can use you bitch, I see something in you we can blow up

Like time bombs if you got an open mind

We can post for a moment but not now

Your homie tryna do a little bit more for ya ma

So it would behoove you if you play it cool

Fake quality time with dude, laugh at his jokes 'cause he far from broke

Fleecing for his dough, order some equipment for us

Put it in the studio when we not sure who we know

So we got keep it on the low, keep him in the blind

And you can sneak out every night

Get your back to your house before the sun come up

Homie won't know what's what

Get your back to your house before the sun come up

Homie won't know what's what

JLC lyrics - Curren$y

Through text message we plot the takeover

Can't talk out loud 'round these chauffeurs

Way on the outskirts we have slick meetings

Lookin' over our shoulders, mother fuckin' lip readers just wanna know what I told ya

What I rolled ya

Wake up and smell the Folgers, crystals on my doja

The bitches on your posters really comin' over

Feelin' that jet livin', dosin' off on suede sofas

Wakin' up to mimosas, joy rides and high-priced rollsters

My side, east life keep them trees rollin'

Hundred dollar bills foldin'

Fools countin' on me to fuck up

I'm countin' up that money as it's pourin' in

Jets nigga, you know it's them

Losin' to me for you would be a win

Jets nigga, you know it's them

Losin' to me for you would be a win I had to say that again

Jet life commandments

Jet life commandments

Mother fuckers better meet my demand list

Jet life commandments

Jet life commandments

First order of business is make the fam rich

Laid back chillin', posted

Livin' like a villain, mostly

Coast to Coast G

Rap hustlin', smokin'

Our places you not allowed to go in

The beats bitch niggas is scared of, I goes in, on

So King Kong go ahead with that Felicia ass cred

What he smokin' on, personal, this mine, it won't work for you

Your whole click in trouble, need a focus group

Learn you on how to earn but you uncoachable

What you want me to do

Fall back like the top, all that

And the half a joint pimpin' I'm high

Get Paid lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy & Trademark)

[Trademark:]

Yeah

Jet Life

Jet set, nothing less

Uh-huh

I'm talking oceans in the back, front reserved for Porsches

Highed up focused on my fortunes, a real G

I'm tryna ball, I want it all, fuck a portion

Money in my pocket, more stacks than a fortress

Up early everyday, I'm tryna flip, I need more of it

Gotta get it now, will I see tomorrow? I ain't sure of it

Overdue it's 'bout that time, I deserve a lick

I'm trying to see something slick, I really came from nothing though

Still I stand tall, pockets thick, fitted sitting low

Twisting with my chick out the manor in front of gettin' gold

She ain't a gold digger, but love how daddy get this dough

Real nigga, hear it in my words plus my actions show

Nothing less I'm a Jet so I'm sending threats

To these suckers hating on my name 'cause I'm next

Protected by the planes, JLR family crest

Mama fall back from them lames and fly with the best

Yeah, get paid

Get paid, my nigga get paid

Yeah, get paid (get paid)

Get paid, my nigga get... (paid) paid

Get paid (get paid)

Get paid, my nigga get... paid

(Yeah) Get paid

Get paid, my nigga

[Curren$y:]

Never underestimate the other guy's greed

Game given from a snake indeed

I still take heat, keep the force what you stuck adhesive

Fuck with the real niggas see how we do it

Baby girl, them your people

Well lose them dudes, your home girl and them cool

We makin' moves like when throwback rap albums had interludes

We used to chill at the crib waiting for homie

To bring them instrumentals through

Mixtape rap your way to a million dollars, I did it partner

Too much of a scholar to ever live in squalor

Scissors beats paper unless we talking 'bout them paper dollars

I'm in there like I live there

What took you so long baby girl I been here

Tryna lose your man, he a square, huh?

I don't even know if it's fair, ma

Fuck it though you living in the same world I'm in

Dirty but that money make it spin

Yeah, get paid

Get paid, my nigga get paid

Yeah, get paid (get paid)

Get paid, my nigga get... (paid) paid

Get paid (get paid)

Get paid, my nigga get... paid

(Yeah) Get paid

Get paid, my nigga

[Young Roddy:]

I hustle hard 'til I'm dead or locked behind bars

I'm a Jet member, we about a different set of laws

Roddy trap hard, ain't no time for fucking off

It's a scary game but am I scared? Not at all

I'm hoping that this high don't ever come down and fall

'Cause them days with no weed way tougher than them all

Still spitting these trill bars free of charge

And them niggas don't give a fuck, they cold hearted

That's cold blooded especially in New Orleans

Just trying to make it out this maze that I been lost in

I rep my set from the stage to the coffin

School of hard knock I learned to read between the margins

But real shit so many problems I deal with

And I thank God for Mary Jane, that good piff

Bet I won't quit stacking my bread flipping my chips

I double count my paper then I dip

Jets fool, I bet I do

Yeah, get paid

Get paid, my nigga get paid

Yeah, get paid (get paid)

Get paid, my nigga get... (paid) paid

Get paid (get paid)

Get paid, my nigga get... paid

(Yeah) Get paid

Get paid, my nigga

Covert Coup (2011) - Curren$y (with Alchemist)

• BBS
• The Type
• Blood Sweat And Gears
• Life Instructions
• Smoke Break
• Scottie Pippen
• Ventilation
• Double 07
• Success Is My Cologne
• Full Metal 

BBS lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist

This that gold BBS flow

Plastic Nike Air tags on your original 4s

Niggas done z'd on ya mans and I'm rollin a O

Leave 'em sleep, I don't need them suckers listening to me

Pack the bong full with everything except the kitchen sink

Underneath which I keep a set of Andis clippers

I can fix my lining up 'fore we go over by them bitches

A quick little something, can't get the back

I don't know where I left my hand mirror

Type of dilemmas I'll never hinder my jet living

We just chillin so don't come around here, fake-toughing

Running off the women, bossed up, all us

Outside the club waiting to tip drivers who pull our cars up

The fuck you thought this was, dawg

I'm a trill muthafucka after all

Haters is dressed as safety nets encouraging my fall

Won't catch me there but you can catch me on air, when my new shit premier

At whatever media outlet decides to play it fair

Fuck playing dead, pimpin', I'mma play the bear

Grizzly, seriously, Fishburne turn, flip styles furiously

This that 70s' Soul Green, Al chemistry

Ay mane, been a G since Buddy Lees

Lames be cuffin they jeans, and they bitches

I be cooking these bird ass hoes, running circles round em

They rotisserie chickens, love gotta shovel in her hand

I see you diggin, strike gold, build yo own coffin with it; dead ass

Flick ashes on the girls in my past tense

The telly's for the ones I was just fucking

The crib's for the one I was gon' get right back with

Its easy to get tangled in the stars; spangled

Mangled in the night life, living out my bars; dangerous

Yeah

The Type lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Prodigy of Mobb Deep)

[Curren$y:]

Yeah

Fool

Yeah, yeah

Jet Life

Yeah

Not yet, yeah

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Yeah

Ugh!

Let the lil' homie kick it in the auto shop with us

Long as he can make store runs and keep his mouth shut—

Same way I came up

All my triple-O's was hood famous

Nice guy surrounded by wolves, wild dangerous

That's where I gained this cool

Walk this talk, you trying to duplicate and make twos

All you do is make fools of yourselves

Underground jewels, Chester Copperpot, waddling in the wishing well

Evidence niggas done failed trying to get close to the Jet code

But it will never be deciphered by a rookie pilot

That's why I sit opposite the driver, '63 Impala

Bad bitch, chain steering wheel, guidance

I'm out the window sky-watching

Plotting, as usual—that's what I'm doing when I quiet

Can't remember shorty name, but she had that loud pack

That other night in Tallahassee, and I thank her for that

Fine, freaky, sending snaps with her legs behind her back

In the wee hours of the morning, picture-mailing that she horny

But love, I'm tryna fuck with this money

Yeah

Get this money

Jet Life, I'm tryna get this money

Ugh

[Curren$y (Prodigy):]

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats

We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats

We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals (Uh-huh)

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats (Ugh)

We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up (Uh-uh)

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats

We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals

That don't bury the axe (Yeah)

Say what, say what?

We the type of people that don't bury the

(We bust raps like B-boys bust gats)

We the type of people that don't bury the

(We bust raps like B-boys bust gats)

We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold that (Yeah)

Like B-boys bust gats

(Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals)

We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up (Ugh)

(Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals, we the type of people that don't)

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats

We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals

[Prodigy:]

(Yeah that's what I'm talking 'bout)

Ayo, Curren$y, let me hold it down real quick, son

(That's right, yeah, that's right)

Ayo, Al, check this out right here, man

Like this (Pour me a cup, pour me another cup, son)

(You never heard no shit like this before, man)

I said

We bust raps like we bust these gats

We're the type of people that don't bury the hatch (Hold up)

We bust raps like we bust these gats (Pow)

We the type of people, Chevys and GMCs, too

We bust raps like we bust these gats (Right now)

We the type of people that don't bury the hatch', hold up (My nigga)

We bust raps like we bust these Gats (You gotta go in right now)

We're the type of people Chevies and GMC's (Get these niggas, son, get these niggas)

Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh

Fuck it, it's the life of a shooting star, gotta move smart

Can't get caught slipping, they all wanna see me fall

Take my punches like a trooper, take my losses like a man

It come with the territory: Take the good with the bad

Throw the dice, watch them tumble, where they land—so be it

E'erything is not strategic; sometimes we risk our life

Sometimes we risk our love, our money, and our freedom

That bullshit, we feed it, to see if you gonna eat it

In New York, we manipulate naïve dummies

We beat you on the head, it's just game we be running sometime

But most of the time, we don't play

They can't figure us out—we like it that way (We like it that way)

The road to the riches so long our feet catch blisters

All these crabs in the bucket, pull you down tryna get up

Every man for theyself, every woman want bags and shoes

We the type of people that'll find you

Yeah, know that

Stop fronting, you doing a lot of fronting right now

You know what I'm saying?

Make me come to your fucking crib, nigga

Right at your doosrtep, like, "Good morning!"

[Curren$y:]

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats

We the type of people that don't bury the axe, hold up

We bust raps like B-boys bust gats

We the type of people, Cutlass, Monte Carlos, Regals

[Prodigy:]

We bust raps like we bust these gats

We the type of people that don't bury the hatch (Hold up)

We bust raps like we bust these gats

We the type of people, Chevys and GMCs, too

Blood Sweat And Gears lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Fiend)

[Curren$y:]

Fuck around and lay around

Yeah

I'm talkin' to you, you, and you too

You guys know who I'm talkin' to

Those—

Yeah

I'm talkin' to—

Take this opportunity to roll up

Get your grinders

Yeah, yeah

Fuck around and lay around

Locate your lighters

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Let me tell you something

Uh

Laced David Robinson's, Wally moccasins

Matte black paint, polished rims

The fuck you said? I ain't hear it clear

Too much money talking in my ear

The end result of two albums in one year

Blood, sweat, and gears, life in between the racing strips

We break day every night

Alternative lifestyle, I ain't looking for a pussy, boy

This trill jet shit, just enjoy

That's yo wifey but she's still a Jet miss (Fuck around and lay around)

Give her directions to the telly and a checklist

Arriving shortly with the items I requested (I'm talkin' to you, you, and you too)

Reinforced the frame with that jive nigga repellant (You guys know who I'm talkin' to)

My new plane, maintain the smoke

Let you take a couple grams home if you my folk

Eyeball you a lil' something, I ain't the weed man though

But if you give me fifteen minutes, I'll call my folks, he'll be at the door

Connectin' four marine batteries on one side of the trunk

To go with them other four batteries that's powering the pumps (Fuck around and lay around)

It's the juice in them cylinders that make the Chevy jump

You already know, I ain't gotta tell you 'bout it, partner

Your bitch stay talkin' and you steady eavesdroppin' (Let me tell you something)

[Fiend:]

Rolling trees [?] do something for you

No matter what you be goin' through

Uh, ayy

Execution flow, ten thousand grams of potassium

Streets, I roam, mama praying like the Vatican

My life feels like treadin' water in the ocean, who's panickin'?

I'm dope, sudden move is drug traffickin' (Fuck around and lay around)

Tell I'm gettin' dough, I'm getting fat again

What I'd do to hear my loved ones laugh again

Say, love, go and give me your math again

Got a movie later on you'll be actin' in (Let me tell you something)

Life is like free throws, some things you gon' miss, some things you make

Don't rush, don't wait

I call pape' time travel machine

It can get you there faster, but it can't wake a permanent sleep

I'd never compromise my fresh

Smoke kush, not sess

Why cry? I'm blessed

I'll lend you the bail out

The ones I call my Tank Dogs in the jail house

Jets smoking in the club on tour (Fuck around and lay around)

Born in New Orleans, all new friends, bonjour

I'm je m'appelle International Jones

And Louis scarf down the west smoking one with the homies

Walls full of vinyl, all bars are final

Life of Richie Rich, first name not Lionel

International Jones

Curren$y the Spitta

Alchemist my nigga

Italian life, go figure (Fuck around and lay around)

Life Instructions lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Smoke Dza)

[Curren$y:]

Yeah

Real life situations

Real events in Jet Life

Berner say he got some shit gon' get a nigga eighth grade high

We in LA

Shit, already, we rollin' up right now

Alc' in here just chillin'

Uh

Patty cake, patty cake, I'm baked, my man

Kick it on your street like bad Chris and them garbage cans

Aw, man, them bitches think I'm balling

So they behaving differently when I be in New Orleans

I'm falling back off 'em, they crawling back on him

Not half way complaining, just making a true statement

Which quite basically is what's missing from this game we in

Create the world in which you trying to live in, kid

Some of my friends is passed away, some of my homies doing bids

But best believe I bring 'em with me anywhere I is

What a hater say'll never affect the way that I live

Or where I go, just make me fuck they bitches in they crib (Uh)

The game I got was raw and given to him by Slim

Referring to himself in the third when he on them herbs

Make sure I don't park out in the street, but don't get too close to the curb

Jet Life too high for them birds

Ayo

[Smoke DZA:]

Yeah

Uh

Right

Big doobies rolled up, you know how we do

Snow Beach 'Lo like Rae wore in '92

Rugbies all flavors, lime green Rod Lavers

Touring the world, getting paid off the talent God gave us

I'm parlaying, Marley's got me smacked

Twistin' like a Rastafari Marcus Garvey on the track and I'm faded

Niggas hated, now they all trying to get in

All the slick talk, I know you ain't really mean it

Sleeping on the kid, I hoped the bed was Posturepedic

Begging for a verse, I'm like, "Cocksucker, beat it"

What's your budget like? Go 'head and find a way

You trying to get in the loop, I make 'em pay to ride the wave

Jet Life, it sucks to be you

Trying to get swag, you gotta purchase this cool

Right

Out

What up, Spitta?

Smoke Break lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist

Can we get a moment of silence for this small chronic break?

Well, how many people in the house tonight smoking on some of that light green chronic?

Chillin', inhalin' chronic smoke

Can we get a moment of silence—

Chillin'

Well, how many people in the house tonight—

You should be rollin' up by now

Yeah

Locate your lighters

Prime time

It's mister go left on a bitch who can't find her right mind

I'm squeakin' past a yellow light doin' sixty-five

Hope that wasn't one of them camera joints, traffic eyes in the sky

I'm kind of high, but you dumb twisted

I'm used to that killer shit, so I maintain my pimpin'

While you over-highed and slizzered

And I'm laughin' at you slippin'

And your bitch feelin' disgusted and miserable

She like, why she even here with you?

I'm puttin' air in my inner tubes

Black mags on my Haro hangin' from the wall

The allure of my home decor got these girls trippin'

And frequently speakin' of return visits

A time machine, my lyrics

And the same thing for my garage, dog, did you see what I just put in it?

We tryna compete with them NASCARs, you noticin'

And the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

This Jet Life ain't for everybody, this shit is reserved for us

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

The style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

Ayo

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

Can we get a moment of silence for this small chronic break?

This Jet Life ain't for everybody, this shit is reserved for us

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

Jet Life, Jet Life

See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah, lil' homie, y'all can get down, but I bet y'all can't keep up

Can we get a moment of silence for this small chronic break?

See, the style done got switched up 'cause the last one got bit up

Yeah

Scottie Pippen lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist (feat. Freddie Gibbs)

[Curren$y:]

Yeah

Yeah

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Go get your lighters

Showin' no signs of letting up

Still kick you in the head like I think you on the verge of gettin' up

No mercy, Cobra Kai, Cobra Commander

Deadly venom-spitting, niggas just a salamander

I'm living a life worthy of capturing on camera, documented

How one of the last live ones did it

How I rolled up in the drop, how I rolled up that sticky

How I rolled with them women, elegant player, no simpin'

How I fucked 'em to sleep

How I rolled up out the building when I was finished, keep it G

Them niggas not original, they muh'fuckin' House of Mirrors

Not quite the image

I'm on that Popeye spinach, Mama mai-tai sippin'

She loves a square nigga, but now she trying something different

Windy City Bulls, Mitchell & Ness wool jackets, some sweats and Scottie Pippens

My description, high off that fuzzy, green prescription

Lyin' if I sayin' that I isn't; if you lookin' for that nigga, I is him

All eyes in this direction, a burden and a blessing

[Curren$y (Freddie Gibbs):]

Yeah, yeah

(Ugh)

(For sure)

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

[Freddie Gibbs:]

Ugh, reporting live from the Devil's palace (Yeah)

Breakfast, had two titties, two blunts and a turkey-bacon sandwich (Yuh)

Two seasoned eggs and grape jelly, my hoes stay ready (Ugh)

Pop that pussy then pulled off in my Pontiac on Pirellis

'82 edition, spotless Bonnie squattin' on sixes (Ugh)

Rather be countin' stacks than stuck in the county, washin' the dishes (Nah)

Or washing drawers in the pen; got two zones of soft and some Hen'

I had go pay the correct correctional officer to walk 'em in

Bail money on deck, come at my neck (Yeah)

Bless that boy 'cause that same place him test is where he slept

I issue eternal rest, sign up and be a subscriber (Yeah)

The price of life got so high that I must make sure I stay higher

Stay with the purp out of pee-zo, stay smackin' these geekers' needles

Stay runnin' the rock just like I play quarterback for the Eagles

Randall, Donovan, or Michael, 'fore I picked up this mic

I was hittin' licks with some Lords and did dirt with plenty Disciples

I'm gangbang affiliated (Ugh), federal-investigated, self-educated

All my co-conspirators catchin' cases (Yeah)

I dropped straight out of college, and I majored in home invasion

Believe, I got the balls to clear up all of my altercations

Leave faces with alterations, the closed-casket console (Yeah)

Tryna make a million dollars, fuck a million downloads

But if that equal the same, then slice that up and give me my change

I made a lane up in this game so niggas got' remember the name:

Gangsta Gibbs, ho! Two bitches cooking in the crib, ho (Yeah)

Still push a bucket, but I ride it like a Benz, ho (Yeah)

Tryna find a bridge ho, to slangin' raps, from slangin' weight (Ugh)

Said that Fred the new-age Brad, bitch, call me Baby Face Killa

Ugh, ugh

Ventilation lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist

White carpet in my Scarface house

No undergarments on my Scarface spouse

My Elvira twisting that reefer and delivering that dough

To the front door like a pizza carryin

Her own weight financially, she don't need me

She just in love with a real nigga, continuously weeded

At my undisclosed __cpLocation

[?] reading up on V-12 engines

And the greatest strains this season

And I grind for that very reason

The toxic air that I'm breathing leave the average man weakened

Watermarks still on the houses as I drive by em

Crack the sunroof, let a cloud out it, trill shit

Next time I vacate, I'm bringing all my cars on the plane with me

We gon' show our folks how to make them millions

Grappling hooks, scaling the building

Rap with no hooks, I'm high how is you feelin

Captain Hook whilin' and sailin'

Though no stealin'

That shit hurt, I know the feeling

These niggas'll borrow your style like

You wasn't about to do nothing with it

That's why I only kick it with real niggas like Dom Kennedy

And people I ain't got to name 'cause they was probably here

Getting high with me

If y'all don't know where to put it at, then don't ride with it

'Cause they'll try to lose you in the system for some weed in my city

In the hood, ain't no love or no pity

Looking for charity? That dog don't hunt, don't come in the woods with it

Double 07 lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist

Looking for someone down the line

But no one will be there to see it through

Fuck all y'all

Yeah

Lames catch feelings

We catch flights

Fool

Yeah

You should be rollin' up by now

Locate your lighters

Yeah

Shelter from the rain in a parked car, chopping game, modifying my slangs

Fog lights in the grill, in Negril whippin' the '96 Range

It's insane how fast they let you drive in them narrow lanes

My independence remain

'Cause I ain't working for the radio station like Martin Payne

I grind and maintain my peace of mind

Almost lost it once on the line

But see that I found it just in time

A mercenary killer

Paid for bringin' debt to these whack niggas

You call them raps, that's why them labels never called you back

Pimpin', yeah, jack, Spitta snap

Long flight, turbulence bad

Baggage claim tags

Car service rolling grass

007, but I ain't talking agents

Two ounces and seven grams, my nigga, we still blazing

You uneasy in my presence, dumb questions, dumber statements

I'm on a whole 'nother level, roof terrace, you the basement

Couldn't gain possession, them haters couldn't take it

Can't see me 'less you sleeping, nigga, Freddy vs. Jason

Snoozing on a jet movement, your worst nightmare in the making

Yeah, yeah

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Jet Life, Jet Life, yeah

Success Is My Cologne lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist

Yeah

Jet Life, Jet Life

You should be rollin' up by now

Locate your lighters

Uh

Knowing I'ma look cool in them black and white pictures when they talk about

Underground rappers getting high and making history

I'm sick and tired of these niggas claiming that they as sick as me

They lying, I checked your chart, your file saying you soft

Something fishy, ho nigga, you more bass then boss

Off the boat, small fries and stowaways get tossed

Can't party on the shore with us, fool

Get your floaties up, kiddy pool, niggas ain't really that cool

Can't follow these moves, you need more expensive shoes

Working out, smoking strong on a week long cruise

Bonfire with these bitches, singing songs to the moon

Too high to judge

Call my ex bitch who did that foul shit, fuck her brains out, and settle the grudge

Back shot revenge style, ain't no love

Light grub, roll up after a quick scrub

Cover my tracks, don't let my bitch know where I was

Sticking to the script, though I'm improvising a bit

Same as my OGs, but I put the Jets in the mix

Classic like Eddie Murphy's SNL skits

Deadstock, tissue in the box, elephant print

On my Flint 13s, no retro, 3M reflective

Your bitch type reckless in my DM's

Sexting, trying to see him

Smoke a J where he being

But I've got no time for company

I'm building one of them, honey

I know that's why you want me

Success is my cologne, I spray that bottle all on me

Yeah

Full Metal lyrics - Curren$y & Alchemist

You should be rollin' up by now

Locate your lighters

Brother hasn't been dead for long

Look, there's still some color in his face

His soul is probably still at the gate

I just have to pull it back

The same way he did

Uh

I call my brother Sun 'cause he shine like

Noon time, Alaska on the turnpike

Maneuvering mind, GT5, my nerves is ice

And I wouldn't change none of it in hindsight, believe this

'Cause if I wouldn't have been that, then I wouldn't be this

Inspiration for niggas who out there chasing that paper

Walkin' the walk and runnin' over them haters

Outline it in chalk, that conversation is deaded

'Cause I'm living for the loot and you wasn't talkin' no bread, bitch (I just have to pull it back)

Cake all layer-ish, player all Himalay-erish, got the 420 vision

Rollin' doobies up, rollin' doobies up, up in the incision

Moroccan furnishings, projection screen built in my ceiling

I spit the picture so vivid because I'm really living

This Jet Life, tennis shoes and tuxedos

Them other fools ain't fly, they fuckin' mosquitoes

Don't work, they just cry and whine (I just have to pull it back)

Fuckin' pinot grigio, you need to get on your grind (The same way he did for me)

Stack a stack of dead people that done done some presidential time

For that cash, I brung a claim tag, this is mine

Fuck you doin' with that dough?

AZ holdin' the baby, peepin' the whole scene, I'm 'bout to blow

You know?

I just have to pull it back

mixtape: Return To The Winner's Circle (2011)

• Daze Of Thunder
• Rain Delay
• On..
• Trophy Case
• Empire Monopoly
• Frost
• Record Deals
• Moon & Stars Remix
• Role Model
• Paydayss
• Jets @ Your Neck 

Daze Of Thunder lyrics - Curren$y

I'm in that '77 Glasshouse, Kelly greenin'

Rims wit da nice lips, Angelina's

Jolie, roll me another sticky steamer

Got them bitches pressed like I brung them to the cleaners

Fool don't lie, you ain't never seen him in person

You just heard about them tracks he be murking

'Bout them hoes I be working

Light one up for the pimp

Got a yellow bone bitch rolling weed, serving grits

You know curly head Amanda, ain't she from Atlanta

Condo on Peachtree, roommate named Pamela

In love with her body

Girl, don't sweat them little love handles

That's where I put my hands at

When I snatch you up to ram you

Ask your BFF about what happened when she passed through

Baffled by the castle, mind unraveled

Say the smoke was amazing and the bed, life magical

Fuck your homegirl good and let that news get back to you

Now it's like you have to too, curiosity

Sprung that pussycat to the house with me and I killed it

Suckers hate the jet life because they not allowed to live it

Fool I'm dead serial, killer fucking serious

Nigga this is personal, you can't get no whiff of this

I rolled this shit myself and I'm a smoke it 'til the end of it

I burn it half way down and put a clip behind my ear, you bitch

Either way a square ain't saying he got high with me today

Frito-Lay chip motorcycle coppers trying see

What exit I take off the interstate so they could follow

But I ain't tripping, I got it like money in my pocket

And a clip next to my license that confirm that I'm a pilot

I'm stumbling across da red carpet, laughing, spilling bottles

You stuck in your hotel suite, waiting on you stylist

You can't get dressed without him, because you got no inner fly-dom

Showed up like "Where the hoes at?"

Fool, they all at my room

Ad-miring that ass

I'm a smoke to that before I tell you to get in the bed and arch your back

Smooth raps served chill, musical Cognac

Audio dope, surround sound, crack, all that

The sun roof top in a diamond

Though not on a Cadillac, because I'm a Chevy driver

I been all over the map, my home at the bottom

Winter hot like summer, big chrome, skinny rubber

Rust bucket, I spent 1500 on that motherfucker

Another 30 racks restoring that motherfucker

40 say "You got a bad bitch, better tuck her," like Chris

Bay love bumping Mac Dre on the way to get some paper

Haters is mad we get high and get rich, ain't slowing down for nothing

George Kush the button

Like "What do this do, fuck it, here goes nothing."

Your man's is something, else

Class by himself, high, off radar, stealth

For the love of the jets, until it's nothing left

You ain't got no gas, go over there and siphon some of theirs

Game cold, Frigidaire, though it's fair

No choice for us to play, so you might as well win, mane

They say it ain't everything, but that's that loser talk

So ask them, mane

Rain Delay lyrics - Curren$y

Dedicated to the Winners and the Losers

To the night De-bo got knocked fuck out

N Red got back his beach cruiser

I'm jet livin for the day to make em pay

This revenge served cold on a doobie ashtray

My eyes and my windows open halfway

I'm livin in a matinee early

See me tho fashionably late and you nervous

Mad outta place

You pretendin to be comfortable it's showin on yo face

And them niggas that you think holdin you down jus lookin for cake

And they'll accept from whoever got a slice on they plate

Fall in like rain

Befriended and betrayed

All in all viciously bitten by niggas u was jus callin yo dogs

And it was all good jus a week ago

Chillin by dem freaky hoes, feet kicked up

When you shoulda been on yo toes

Stay high

Kill em with the flow

These new, fresha than yo easter clothers

I ain't trippin off nann nigga to each his own

So ignore my grass tend to ya own home homes

Might pick my hair til it's Puffy, no Combs

Fuckin bitches that won't let u make it out the friend zone

Ice Water, Tall Glasses take it in

It goes down like nails if you frail

Jet fuel

Labortory reported it burned thru the test tube

Tearin thru yo rag toproof while u at the drive thru waitin on that slow ass fast food

Alan from the sky foo

8:50

Bird shit on the windshield hit the wipers

Mother natures cryin

Harmonizin

Homicide ridin on these tracks

Think when DoeBoy caught the fools who killed Ricky

Them niggas was lunchin

Slippin

Monsta told DoeBoy "Cut the lights nigga! "

My watch is on grind time word to mic Bigga

This here is a digital track

(W) rap on these bitches

On computers like laptop stickas

Light pressure on these suckas means it's drizzlin

Feelin like pennies fallin from the roof of the empire state buildin

High velocity

I'm high off broccoli

In Cali with a license, got plants on property

Watchin me

Tryna copy me

Showin my pics to yo stylists like "Buy this outfit for me"

But the clothes don't make the man, a man made them pants

His flight leave at 8 and at 9 my plane land

Ain't that grand?

I got pounds of weed and a plan

To let you suckas kno who the mutha fuckin...

Ah man

Bad weather

And that shelter won't help ya

Sink, swim or swelter

Temperature risin, so is the water level

Where is u niggas hidin

On.. lyrics - Curren$y

Spit that clean shit

Hand sanitizer my saliva

Niggas thinking they bitches in the blind

But she got her on mind to follow

Decision easily made, one of these don't belong

Me and four lames on the same page

Alco fresh out the paint shop

Polo green krsipy kreme glazed clear coated

8 times over high roller stoned rolling half way home

Until I realized I left my phone by this shone

I was just boning

Slipping on my pimping gotta get back to her crib before she realize what I did

And go to finger picking

Trying contact my other women

Shit them hoes do when they feel like they entitled to position

That's why I play them close but from a distance

If you can dig it

Damn near in love with all them hoes when I'm with'em

But once I put on my clothes, spray my cologne

Darted for the front door

Jet life jet wise respect I got to go

I'm on hustle like a mole

On hustle like it's dope

On hustle like it's coke

I'm on hustle like a mole

On hustle like it's dope

On hustle like it's coke

Nigga... yea

Trophy Case lyrics - Curren$y

(You are watching a master at work)

Put the cheat code in, I brung my homie back to the game

I done that, I'll sign for the blame

Name on the side of the plane Jets Fool dot dot dot

Which ensues the reign will be continued

Flight Club from the display case we cop gym shoes

Living as any other grown kid would do

Remembering being 10, looking at OGs roll down the street wishing I was them

I super-ceded it, previous genius they see Spitta they tip they brims

My role perfected, my money invested, interest collectin'

My collection of Chevrolets doubled

502 big block, anabolic steroid

That's motor car muscle, its running word to mother

Running like the little man on my Play Cloths duffle

King of the jungle, bear with us you niggas is Snuggle

Yeah, til the next life

Jet Life, Jet Life, yeah

Jet Life, Jet Life

The Return to the Winner's Circle, fool

Empire Monopoly lyrics - Curren$y

Watchin boardwalk empire feelin inspired you can take it all over if you just tried it

So I tried it liked it got addicted to the square footages and home insurances

Best way to get to it is the self way do it for thou like what better time then right now

Bendin corners on these blocks makin my rounds. Highed up. Baby girl love the way that I get down

This dat headband got a nigga royally high scratch headband we gone have to call this a crown

Paint water wet on the chevy might drown so fresh it almost wasn't ready

When you get yo shot make sure you aim steady

'Cause suckas gunnin fa yo spot the jack boys drew a bullseye on yo drop and you was still on da car lot

Them niggas ain't givin a fuck young killas ain't rememberin ya or respectin what you done in them streets

They just focused on themselves comin up some pimpin gorillas some chimps some chumps

Monkey shit in occasions those not actin they ages got the story first hand from my incarcerated scarfaces speakin in coded language on visitation

In no form am I a criminal but never was sure what my friends was gettin into

DVD title menu on the flat for 4 hours because fell asleep beneath the sour

In the crib yo bitch want me to take her like a shower

No one man should have all dat

Frost lyrics - Curren$y

Jet Life, that's all, playa

Fresh weed in a glass jar, playa

Not the body, Vampire Slayer

Pull up strains like the guitar player

John Mayer, body shaking, body snatcher

Undertaker, come pick the track up, cause this was a massacre

Spitta done beat the beat right side, left, and everywhere but backwards

Holy mackerel, I'm low in the Malibu two-door, listening to Dizzee Rascal

Right up your avenue, fly as a parachute, high as a paratroop-er

Before he deployed

You ain't a D-boy, you's a fuckin' decoy

You ain't Bruce Lee, nor Bruce Leroy

Can't kick it, Bruce Bruce, you's a comedy, boy, yeah

My mission here is to destroy the wackness

On all facets, from all factions

Fools are all papers, you suckerish ashin's

Cash out, nigga, that casino magic

My girl from Cincinnati, my weed from Cali

Feel the blitz, like the O-line was happening

High Times, evergreen pine, we snappin' trees in half, and use that to make hash with

Habit of having my paper straight

Holding it down, I'm a paperweight

Knock-off baller, your paper fake

You fallin' off, and I'm home plate safe

How else can I call it than how I see it?

Can't say your name, cause I ain't see ya

Flow cold, inside door of the freezer

Fo' hoes chose, but I'm in a two-seater

Follow in a cab, or I'll catch you next weekend

Either way, baby girl, a nigga ain't trippin'

Pleading, please, I'm peeling off

Now you realize you was dealing with a boss

Never took the ride, but you took the loss

Got your friend in my drive with the top taken off

At the crib, her top get taken off

And she can share the details when she wakes tomorrow

Yeahh

Record Deals lyrics - Curren$y

They be on tables like poker chips

Dangled in front you by suits who assume you to be a two-bit hustler

Hasty moves

From the cradle to the grave might be a short walk, real talk

It's just a matter of ink

So many people in your ear you can't hear yourself think

Your homies like do that shit

Your old heads say you need to let somebody read through that shit

Call up a lawyer, but an arm and a leg it cost ya just to walk through the office

Consultation charges, end up taking bigger bites than your portion

And you was just online looking at Porsches

Now you're feeling tight hot garbage, cus your check being garnished

No cool gray area about it, executives is black hearted

They could care less about repossessions, disconnected cell phones

Or evictions from apartments

It's no country for artists

Trap floor under the carpet, figured you'll fall for it

Cus you're struggling and you're starving, that don't mean you're stupid

Reverse the game, pull the rug from them losers, carve your own lane

Stay true to your music

I'm watching myself do it

I saw somebody else get close to it

But you know how it is, the good die young mostly over bullshit

Record deals

Record deals, record deals

Record deals, record deals

Record deals, record deals

Record deals, record deals

Record deals, record deals

Record deals, record deals

Moon & Stars Remix lyrics - Curren$y

So I ride, I lean, I crawl

Do it better than them all

Let the road be my guide

As I glide in candy cars

Underneath the moon and the stars

[Big KRIT:]

Yeah, yo, my digital dash, as I mash on the gas

Don't know where I'm going fast, but I'm going there

Stop at the club, forever sure there's some hoes in there

Shaking they ass, looking for players with dough to share, but that ain't me though

Before I trick on a bust-it baby, I'm outta the do'

If you are looking for saving shawty, I'm not your hero

More like a guide

I can take you where you want, would you look in my eye?

Like you supposed to, cold enough to froze ya

Talking bout that pimping you already been exposed to

Far from being sober, let's travel into space while

Puffing on this Yoda, glowing like a lightsaber

Doing what the grownups do

Be grateful that this game was bestowed upon to you

Cause backstabbing betrayers divide, don't listen to

Cause they front, but they don't, do what I do

Cause they will never ever be pimps

So I ride, I lean, I crawl

Do it better than them all

Let the road be my guide

As I glide in candy cars

Underneath the moon and the stars

[Killa Kyleon:]

Laid back on that butterscotch

Got my paint lookin' peppermint

Pull up pacin on pokers, puffin' that purple it's evident

Smell the scent I can see the moon and the stars in my evidence

Louie V don't see haters no focus cuz they irrelevant

Comin' thru like the president/Wave at my boppers n droppers

I let my trunk do the jump n they flag us down n they stop us

Flock us like waka. Like tv shows they watch us. you see these hoes?

Mesmerized like khalifa Pulled up in a slab do you see these fours

This ain't no Taaka, this purple drink. Do you see me pour?

And my cup got them double stacks like that X/do u see me roll?

Paint wet like it's aroused,So high i can kiss the clouds

I roll up them sour flowers and smoke till I'm lookin Yao

I'm stuck on this country shit I'm southern just like the college

Neck bones, cornbread, candy yams, and my greens collard

Crawlin just like a toddler pradas pushin them pedals down

Jackers keep me in magneto mode, I keep that medal 'round

So I ride, I lean, I crawl

Do it better than them all

Let the road be my guide

As I glide in candy cars

Underneath the moon and the stars

[Curren$y:]

I be obliged if you stepped outside

Smokin' that bum ass shit bitch

You get no play in this ride

Butta' soft high

They built many 'vettes after mine but I think they did it best in '89

Idlin' at the red light mindin' my business

Holdin' my weed low with a slight crack in my windows

Playin' all three of my mirrors

I ain't nervous

But I'm certain that them devils tryin' to get me

Cause I'm swervin' banging curbs

And they can't stand to see me with it

But it don't stop just provoke me

More to drop my top

Now be planetarium status

Flickin' ashes in the big dippa'

You ain't as high as me mista

Eye screwin' your sista' from a fifty foot distance

Now she missin' caught up in a twista', Tropicana

Pour me up a glass of tang

Roll up some of that NASA, mane

So I ride, I lean, I crawl

Do it better than them all

Let the road be my guide

As I glide in candy cars

Underneath the moon and the stars

Role Model lyrics - Curren$y

Uh

Nothing but

Tell the truth, do I?

I've been in the game, OG

Seen fools blow up and blow it, you know it

Prophetized by the perpetually high poet

I've been through it so free game I got to throw it to the listeners

Gifted in the art of deciphering rhymes

Conjured up in the confines of a powerful mind

Between the cars and broads, you're sure to find

The story of a man who drew his own guidelines

Inspirational, ain't it?

The way shorty set his goals tall and attained'em

Professional brushstrokes on canvasses

Finger-painting amateurs, can't handle it you do best to stay in your pajamas, kid

Blew my high when you came in with them cameras

Questions and peanuts, galleries and suggestions

I hear some drummers comin' from your section, that's cool

But we got our own beat to walk to, fool!

Uh, drinkin' from the lemonade bottle

Tell the truth, do I look like a role model?

To the kid that chose me to follow

Life ain't nothin but bitches and Impalas

Uh, drinkin' from the lemonade bottle

Now tell the truth, do I look like a role model?

To the kid that chose me to follow

Life ain't nothin but bitches and Impalas

Nigga! Life ain't nothin' but bitches and Impalas, yea

Lyin' ass bitches, thievin' ass partners

To the kid that chose me to follow

Life ain't nothin' but bitches and Impalas

Thievin' ass bitches, lyin' ass partners... yea

Paydayss lyrics - Curren$y

Another day's dollar, holla if you hear me

Chillin' by one of my baddest bitch's older sisters

You know how them hoes be pretendin'

That they so close and kindred to that jet pimpin', give them all that 4/20 vision

One spoke up on my stroke and the other one got defensive

They both figurin' out they both getting dicked down, kill em with my old schools

Bitch you car sick, huh? Chevy man see me in that Corsica

Or a GT Berreta, nigga low as fuck

If I'm not on tour Pimpin', I ain't doing much

Except rolling up, building scale model low rider trucks

In my Jet Study where I keep my books

Pilot Loft, each entry, each verse, each hook

About the shit I really saw and the chances I really took

Cars I really drove, women that really chose

No Phantom over here Pimpin', Cinnamon on my rolls

Breakfast, first-class flight from New Orleans to Houston Texas

Flight time 45 minutes 37 seconds

Wheels up to wheels down last time I checked it for the record

Flow deadly and alot of niggas respect it on a daily

Creating these speaker blessings

At the car wash, they finishin' my tire dressing

I'm on the conference call discussin' how my merch selling

Loot in coming for all directions

You want to mention 'no hustlers', but never play the cut with us

I got my numbers up, countin' in the sky

Burning doobies in the coupe, D.W. high

Jets @ Your Neck lyrics - Curren$y

Jet life jet life jet life jet life

[Curren$y:]

Yeah, G'r then youv'e ever been and everywhere you never went

A decorated veteran

My bitches keep it very trill say they swagga jackin daddy

I say fuck it baby girl we gon' let him live

Too much money not enough time to get it and want power before they drop the ball

Brand new socks and long jon draws I want it all

My young nigga told y'all it's getting cold out here dog

Bundle up motherfuck being the runner-up

4 niggas deep though number one is us

Text homie and tell him his number's up

You services are no longer needed

Rocka bye baby word to Kesha

Broad day jets and monsta beats kill niggas on tape

Many a track has met his fate at the hands of Spitta Andretti

Them niggas is half way shook and all the way not ready

And I'm gon' keep on driving and smoking

Long as baby keep rolling them nice ones up and passing 'em over to me

I done it how my triple O showed me

Smile when I ride by, they proud of a grown me

The climb was lonely

Got to the top and I stood there on my own feet

2

Trill niggas form the best crew now it's jets at ya motherfuckin' neck fool

[Trademark da Skydiver:]

Sharvees on my feet

Cacky LRG jets fitted trees sticky

Just riding around the city smoking O's like fifties

Mind on a milli

Eyes on a rearview cause these haters out to get me

Fuck 'em, I just duck 'em like the bitch that was just with me

Simply I'm on a level where these lames can't gain no entry

Yeah, I stay high I dont fly on empty

Fill my lungs up with blueberry sour and piffy

Life of a jet bad bitches and good weed

Fast cars and glass jars of sour D's

Uhh TMSD the SV

Hover over land lovers like a G3

Jets nigga from the net to the TV

We came up quick and made this shit look easy

Yeah, now they go in cop my CDs

Put 'em in they deck and ride around with them on repeat

And I'm gon' keep on driving and smoking

Long as baby keep rolling them nice ones up and passing 'em over to me

I done it how my triple O showed me

Smile when I ride by, they proud of a grown me

The climb was lonely

Got to the top and I stood there on my own feet

2

Trill niggas form the best crew now it's jets at ya motherfuckin' neck fool

[Young Roddy:]

And it's jets over everything

I put that on everything

We been doing our thing anyway

Nigga slash anywhere

First let me twist this up I'mma tell my driver take me there

Secondly and back to back in and out I came prepared

Flashback dejavu coulda swore I saw this shit right here

Marley told me kill this shit just don't forget your niggas here

Bet I won't I done see blood sweat so many tears

Bet I blow

That's a fact point blank period

Break her off bust her up spread them legs up in the air

Slow it down and speed it up she tell me keep on drilling it

Show your right I keep it real

Something I'm familiar with

Money coming, money going

Man I keep on peeling it

DFA

My jet set camp

Cats I get my millis with

But really though what's really good

She know I been the shit

She smell me dog, she dig my style, gangsta and gentlemen

I'm good life, my jet insurance keep me with benefits

And I'm gon' keep on driving and smoking

Long as baby keep rolling them nice ones up and passing 'em over to me

I done it how my triple O showed me

Smile when I ride by, they proud of a grown me

The climb was lonely

Got to the top and I stood there on my own feet

2

Trill niggas form the best crew now it's jets at ya motherfuckin' neck fool

[Whizz:]

Street Whizzy money,hoes and Jet clothing

Blowing on that fruity pebble shit that have your throat chokin'

We ain't trippin' in this section full of cloud 9 floaters

It's a crush I'm up in my zone, and you already know this

See my grind, it's all up in my mind to come up with designs

That attack a nigga mental, now they keeping off my rhyme

It's finesse, it ain't nothing less cause I don't waste the time

Steady zippin' through the city money gettin' it I'm fly

If you look up in the air you will not see me I'm so high

Picture perfect when I glide it's like a nerf up in the sky

Twisting turning ya holdin position for my landing, acrobat

Blink a eye and miss a act, stacks up in the leather sack

Food Saver bag sealed up, that tropic winter pack

Jet and my perfection, but the method is to get it back

Bitches don't know how to act, they drooling on a nigga dick

Swagger out of space, all in the clique, you need a membership. YEAH

Pilot Talk II (2010)

• Airborne Aquarium
• Michael Knight
• Montreux
• Famous
• Flight Briefing
• A Gee
• Real Estates
• Silence
• Hold On
• Fashionably Late
• Highed Up
• O.G...(The Jam)
• Michael Knight (Remix)

Airborne Aquarium lyrics - Curren$y

Haha, yeauh

Lames catch feelings we catch flights, Jet Life, fool

Turn it up some

Lames catch feelings we catch flights, Jet Life

Yeauh, eauh

I'm getting hella mail from jail, niggas telling me to kill it

When they get out I'll bring them 'round some bitches

Shinobi how I kick it, American Ninja, major motion picture

Flipping my remote, same way I do them hoes

But she already know before she touch my Chevy door

Real nigga, let me make it as clear as my windows

No square shall enter in the circle of winners

Know I'm prepared for whatever, if you know what I been through

Rearview, Clear vision, memories of paid dues

Confined to a runway, thunderstorms came thru

But look what it came to, something that amazes you

Soon as you quit hating and hear what I gotta say to you

Baby blue sole. These white 11, '96

No retro card came with this

Same year, my Impala with the floor shift

4-door suicide, Muscle car chauffeured

Shawty body choco-latte; Russell Stovers

Brung weed with her whenever I invite her over

Polo sweater, Teddy bear hanging off her shoulder

No care, over here, so we put it in the air

Walking 'round my house, say she wanna fuck everywhere

That's cool baby, but I just got that pool table

We ain't gotta stay away from it, It's all good

If you wanna get under it, then I guess I can fuck with it

Before I got on this beat, it made out a bucket-list

In these bars, I granted its deathwish

Legendary lay-up. Jordan with the right-left switch

Hang time, Hand glide, Stir fried, Chanky-eyed, Shanghai

Candy rain, drizzle frame, I ride

'87 Corvette ZR1, took the T-tops off it

Put 'em in the trunk bitch, all gassed up, she been drinkin' from the pump

That's all bad, tryna pass, fucked around and crashed

Bitches all flip, Fools tryna make it last

Emotional luggage, nothing of it, I don't check bags

I just carry-on, leave that bullshit in the past

Half Rose, Chandon, OJ in my glass

Mimosa, Testarossa program, Countach curriculum

Doors open like a pendulum swinging

Rock in my Jetset Emblem

Fool, it's the serve, like Wimbledon, interior cinnamon

The car that I'm sittin' in, Calm my bad nerves, I call her my Ritalin

Just kiddin, not pillin', just element twistin'

From the Earth come the fire and the wind I'm livin

Not pillin', just element twistin'

From the Earth come the fire and the wind I'm livin

From the Earth come the fire and the wind I'm livin

Yeauhh

Michael Knight lyrics - Curren$y

Yeah

Lames catch feelings, we catch flights

Scoodododododododododoo

Yeah

Racecars and weed jars, nigga

I got a style for every bump in your face

Greaseball-ass nigga Pontiac Judge, open-and-shut case

You know I'm bowtie 'til I die

Though I made an exception for this '69, so quick off the line

Coin double-side, no matter what, we heads up

We in the yard, tell your dogs they should beware of us

We break it off like an engagement gone bad

I fill your jacuzzi with them groupies, make it a bird bath—"miss" me?

No, you didn't, bitch—with that bullshit, miss me

Tryna claim Spitta' name, tryna be Miss me

All of that: kicks to me, silly rabbit trickery

You only around because my spot is where you wish to be

Hope to catch me sleeping by being freaky, but baby girl

Let me be the first to say it's not that easy

I wasn't born yesterday, nor later on that evening

Just had to get that out the way and make the playing field even

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, scoodododododododododoo

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, scoodododododododododoo

And the view from the rocking chair improves

But I have yet to see a team fucking with the crew

Near and far, I saw it all, wide-frame

Everything with wings ain't a plane, mayne

Endo get rolled up like car windows

Avoiding the policemans, them Carl Winslows

The wind blow and change, and I am not mad

All garbage bag rappers need to find a style fast

It's written all over niggas like a Dapper Dan

Survive rough lands, cactus plants growing in desert sands

Alive I stand, left for dead, though a nigga didn't die

I got highed up so I could autograph the sky, fool

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, scoodododododododododoo

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, Michael Knight, Michael Knight

Michael Knight, scoodododododododododoo

Montreux lyrics - Curren$y

Kush smoke

Money, clothes, hoes

Hurry up before that elevator door close

This that 1980 Marvin Gaye live at the Montreux

Stars in the audience Al Jarreau in the third row

Parental guardian to this art for it's my baby

Lazy eye, though wise folk try to play me, I spot you points

I prove with my every move

Right from the beginnin' I was right and that was very crude

This is what I know

Make a fool, out of you, if we were to duel

And a hall player playin' pool

Renegade bitches choose

Word to Max Jule

Drop jewels, diamonds different hues

Type of shit I like to do

Orange leather in my coupe

Carrot soup

My women ball, word to Sheryl Swoopes

Minus the hoop

She fell through

Fell in love with the blue dream

And the things she can't have

Now she lookin' down like she trynna use a Ipad

Pro tools confiscated as evidence by the crime

Lab spyin', ain't even have to do em' like that

Knife work on the track

Many ya' cut and slash

At the neck like a sash

Blood on my hands, me and my killin' bag

Raw shit, Kill a gram

High spinnin' ceilin' fan

You ain't neva seen a man, till' you seen the man

Raw shit, Kill a gram

High spinnin' ceilin' fan

You ain't neva seen a man, till' you seen the man

Fool

Famous lyrics - Curren$y

Ain't nothing changed but the weather

And the temp tag sequence of numbers and letters on my Chevelle

You can ride, but hey man, watch my leather

Cause bitches get ejected in traffic from disrespecting a classic

Rosé in the glasses, get the weed out the plastic

Spitta and them Monsta Beatz radioactive

I don't kick it with no rappers, they be hustling backwards

Like the jeans on Kris Cross, who you Mack Daddy or daddy macking?

Pen lyrics on back on these napkins zoned out in a first class cabin

With noise cancellation headphones, two hash brownies for breakfast

This morning staring down at the ocean, inspired

Scribbling fire, on a streetcar named desire

Straddle a fence you only get caught up in the barbed-wire

I'm independent, fuck your system I get paid without it

Got a new pothead bitch who moonlighting as a blogger

That rapper weed she smoke, that Spitta stroke, she wrote about it

You can't deny it, I'm a rider, word to Pac ambition

Houdini your main squeeze, she disappear she's a magician

You can't blame in the midst of the fame planes get changed

I sent her to the waffle house twit my order from the car man, yeah

And I'm looking famous

And you can tell by the reaction of them strangers

From distance tryna figure if it is or if it ain't him

The reals say I'm on it, the haters say I ain't shit, but I'm still

I'm high again waiting on the sun

Dozed off in my '57 at the drive-in

This is a scary movie I'm in

But I do it for my folk who genuinely want me to win

I do a lotta smoking to stay over this bogus shit

My money and not on these bitches, my focus is locked

Niggas claiming to be jet planes but they not

Pay homage, the founder in the house kid

A MILF hunter, ask your momma she could vouch bitch

If she cool to fuck and down with rolling that barney up

Race-day money on the starting gate pony up

Hope you're hungry, I got a plate of dust for ya homie, look up

Early morning exercise doing kush ups

I ain't stingy with it, got a couple pounds put up

Bitches used to overlook us, now in my presence they shook up

See where this rap shit done took us? I'm still, still

Flight Briefing lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Young Roddy & Trademark Da Skydiver)

[Flight attendant talks:]

(Okay, as we get ready to take off, please make sure to check that your seat belts are fastened, that your tray tables are up, and that your electronics are off.)

Checks nigga, why haven't we been there? Fuckboys wondering if they bitch next

(As the crew comes through to make final cabin checks, please let us know if you have any questions or need any help. We promise to do everythig we can to make sure you have a saft, comfortable flight.)

[Curren$y:]

Uh, With these lazy eyes I seen

More than you can see in seven lifetimes

Get you on track got the fresh scoop from inside

Give you insight on the situation cause I done it twice

Done a dotted line tightrope walk

Where the suits want results they don't talk

Dozens of songs locked away and rotten in a vault

No one to blame it was solely my fault

No salt thrown, just boss game long

Right now I'm not trippin pimpin you can pay me for it when you get it

I'm tryna get a bigger home, put my niggas on

They puttin they niggas on we getting really strong

Met Rex jets, best shape ever

Winner circle, you squares need to get it together

Or stop hanging with each other go somewhere and get it separate

Your bitch want that vitamin D she looking desperate

Bullshit convo five minutes invested

Now she buck-naked lying to you via text message

In a snap like celery or fresh lettuce

Get beheaded trying to get ahead of us

You know what way is up

[Young Roddy:]

Yeah

As the world still turning

My joint still burning

I hold my head high and I got that from uncle Vernon

So, if you want respect, you gotta earn it

It's crazy, most people never learn it

Preach!

So, before they hear my sermon

Here's my confession, I get dressed with my burner

Sheesh!

I know that ain't right

But I know when shit's weak

Try livin' on my tray first streets

So, before I fall asleep

With a certified freak

Who just tryna get her hands on some courtside seats

I'm cool

Nice try, but you can't get that from me

Nice guy, hard body man it way too weak

Gucci broads even said I keep it way too G

I never try to be something I'm not

I do me

I find it better on my own two feet

Roddy keep it unique and low key

Jets Fool

[Trademark da Skydiver:]

Fresh Polo bucket

All them niggas know I'm acting' out

Smoke so much kush in the whip I started blacking out

I'm hoppin out in one of the freshest without a doubt

Bitches love when I come around, they know what I'm about

Take em to the house

Fuck em good, smoke em out

Burn a whole ounce with a mama back to my paper route

I'm tryna put a couple a dollars in my money pouch

Bag to bag transactions then I'm over and out

Dumb it down?

Never that, you should know me buy now

I'm floating on a kush cloud and I never come down

Jet set, international we world renowned

All for takin niggas bitches when we come in town

Lames cryin over hoes, thats tears of a clown

I'm smokin on some purple and green, you steaming brown

Leaves with them sticks and seeds, they should see me now

Its M-O-B, I rest in peace on a money pile

A Gee lyrics - Curren$y

And you can't do a thang, about it

[Curren$y:]

You wanna live in a house dont want no grass to grow

Yo homeboys lookin bad and you giving cash to them hoes

Ol sucka ass nigga fuck you round here fo?

Finna take off on the pluckers? Man cabin door closed ho

O's rolled up fuck it we can get some mo

Kinda cotton had to stop at the 24 hr store

Drop them bomb ass tape v8 crate droptop

Sun ain't even out but I can't wait for the rain to stop

Shine rather or not you wanna deal with it

The bitch in yo car wanna hear us

Leer what? Jets year one vets, from the cars to the broads muthafucka be my guest, yeahh

A gee is what I am, a jet is who I be

You know what I smoke and you can't see me

No matter where you go, one place we'll never be

Is close even if you moved right next to me bro

On a mission and im fishing for my nigga ski beats

Quote live nigga rap broke a jive nigga back

Spineless spliff cruising with optimus primus and in the prime is

Im inclined to sound better than other rhymers

Dont bring them fools around him

He'll make em look clownish

Countach lambo, shoot like ammo, through traffic with green trees I blend in like camo

Flauge, gosh oh my where was I

When things got hot

Somewhere cool laughin at you

Fuck rolling 1, roll 2, roll 3, loop the beat and light an insense in the booth yeaah

.... and you can't see me

No matter where u go, one place you'll never be

Is close even if you moved right next to me bro

A gee is what I am, a jet is who I be

You know what I smoke, and you can't see me

No matter where you go, one place you'll never be

Is close even if you moved right next to me broo

And u can't do a thing about it

And that ain't gone change im sorry

Them bitches know the planes got it

And u can't do a thing bout it

Them bitches know the planes got it

And that ain't gone change im sorry

Yeaaaaa

Real Estates lyrics - Curren$y (feat. Dom Kennedy)

This is revenge

Like when them Russians caught Alonzo at the red light

No bullets, just pens

No machine guns, just machine lipped rims

Yeah, I let my fitted sit high

Cause I am really on my... grind, fool

And as the game rotate, and my name grows bigger

How many bitches want, not many bitches won't

I know you think your bitches don't but I know

What she did last summer, scream for me when I touched her

Chevy man, though lately had my eyes on the Cutlass

Fitna say fuck it, call Mousa, tell him cop it, give it to my brother

Sticky trees I sit under, tryna stay cool

Big city lights hotter than a mothafucka

Tuesday I'm SoCal, Wednesday it's Calcutta

Socks up, stock rising, Kief Catcher Spitta grinding

Higher than my fitted riding

And if I showed you where I live, you would think that I was hiding

Can't call it a neighborhood, I ain't living by nobody

Applying for statehood, make my footprint in geography

Spreading my monopoly, and plus nobody I know got killed

In New Orleans today, I got cash put away and some more on the way, yeah

Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front

This the life we want nigga you only live it once

Uh, I let my fitted sit high cause I am really on my..grind

Yeah, I let my fitted sit high cause I am really on my..grind

[Dom Kennedy:]

Uh, player shit, you niggas still cuffin

If I wanted her back, nigga I'd be still fuckin

Yeah, and I see niggas tryna rap like us

Watch the video, then try to act like us

I know we make this shit look easy

Do a show out in Brooklyn, when I just left the Easy

With my nigga Spit-Spitta, girls tryna get us

Tell her I be comin back, you best be doin all them sit ups

Don't take me to the airport cryin girl, get up

She don't want me to leave when I'm wit her

I tell her I'm the nigga that she need, not a needy ass nigga

The game don't get any realer

I just want the red outside, black stripes like Thriller

I'm in Miami bumpin Trilla

I got dope on the low, but im not a dope dealer

The feds blockin like the Steelers

I let my fitted sit high, cause I am really on my grind

Katt Williams flow, bitch this pimpin all the time

You singin ass rap niggas simpin all the time

Fuckin up the game, niggas fuckin up my name

You don't want no money, just fame

They ask me how I'm doin, shit I really can't complain

Sippin champagne, and tryin to get everything I want

Yellin oceans in the back, Porsches in the front

Uh, uh, I'm yellin

Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front

Yeah, Yeah

Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front

Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front

Oceans in the back, Porsches in the... uh