CURREN$Y - 442 lyrics
rate me442, 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
