CURREN$Y

CURREN$Y - 442

rate me

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

I’m rolling past that BMW

That new shit pretty, these old schools move

I ride city to city, my motor fine-tuned

I’ve got your girl with me, she so unfollowed you

I’m on a paper mission, caper to count the loot

We super fly fishing, we’ve got some Gucci shoes

Started with no pot to piss in, now I smoke pot and kick it

Beautiful stranger tryna get more familiar

New Orleans know I feel ‘em, wherever I go, I bring ‘em

Real niggas in the building, smoked out any whip I’ve driven

Only focus is getting in the door

So we ripped it up off the fucking hinges like

Where the dope? We know it’s in here

They already told us get it here

Can we ball? So high on this motherfucking jet

Check my rhymes, I ain’t told it, not yet

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

We coming through, convertibles and coupes

My OG told me “smash anything in front you”

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

Convertibles and coupes

If it’s ’bout that cash, no telling what we’ll do

Money to the ceiling

Pimpin’ is a gift I opened way too early

Like my hair curly, redbone curvy

Make ‘em run from this…

Alright, lipstick on my boxers, these bitches love my posture

Quite frankly I’m Sinatra, I’m shark and you tilapia

I’ve got on payroll, but I grab my binoculars

I’m looking for a reason to tell my niggas I don’t need ‘em

Alright, revenge taste better than pussy

Man, ain’t got no purple, gotta get it from Whoopi

I’mma put it in your mouth, I don’t know how else to put it

I bet they ain’t fucking with me, where’s the bucket

Alright, I’m a motherfucker, quote-on-quote

She ride this dick like it came off the showroom floor

Lil’ Tunechi aka No Baking Soda, I’m high, Lamar Odom

I’m smoking like a motor

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

We coming through, convertibles and coupes

My OG told me “smash anything in front you”

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

Convertibles and coupes

If it’s ’bout that cash, no telling what we’ll do

We popping off

We get to stunting, you know it’s bang or ball

Rolling off, sliding free, we clear them streets

Third wall, we bend them niggas

Reppin’ mines to the end, my nigga

High life, we can’t fake, so we’ll show them niggas

Take they bitches, bring ‘em home

Stunna holla, bang and ball

Laying low in my old school

Top back for my old cool

Stay fly in that Bentley Coupe

Told my bitch how to get this money

Showed a bitch how to get this money

Pimping hoes, we pimp this game

Got the money, we kept on running

Hard top and that new school

Drop top and that new school

Roof wide open, out the pound with them big tools

What up? We in this jungle

What up? We keep it bumping

What up? We shine and hustle

What up?

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

We coming through, convertibles and coupes

My OG told me “smash anything in front you”

442, 442

I’m burning gas like a 442

We coming through, convertibles and coupes

If it’s ’bout that cash, no telling what we’ll do

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