CURREN$Y - Blood Sweat & Gears lyrics

rate me

Take this opportunity to roll up

Locate your lighters

[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Laced, David Robinson's wiling my consents

Mad black paint polish rims

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 stripes

We break day and night

Alternative lifestyle

I ain't looking for her pussy boy

This trill jet shit, just enjoy

That's yo wifey but she still a jet miss

Give her direction to the tele and a check list

Arriving shortly with the items I requested

Reinforce the frame with that Jive nigga repellin my new plane

Maintain the smoke

Let ya take a couple grams home if you my folk

I'll buy you a little something

Light the weed man though

But if you give me 15 minutes I'll call my folks he get the dough

Connecting four, marine batteries on the side of my trunk

To go with them other four batteries that piling the pumps

It's the juice and them cylinders that make the chevy jump

You already know ain't gotta tell ya bout it partner

Yo bitch stay talkin and you steady eavesdropping

[Verse 2: Fiend]

Rolling trees can do something for you

No matter what you be goin through

Execution flow

Ten thousand grams of potassium

Streets I roam, Mama praying like the Vatican

My life feels like trade water in the ocean

Who's standing in

I'm dopes up moving drug trafficking

Tell her get dough I'm getting fat again

What I do to get my love warm, laugh again

Say love don't give me your mouth again

Got to move it, later on you'll be acting them

Life is like free throws

Some things ya gone miss

Some things ya make

Don't rush, don't wait

I call pape time travel machine

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

I never compromise my fresh

Smoke kush not cess

Why cry I'm blessed

Aw lend me the bail out

The ones I call my ten dogs in a jail house

Jets smoking in the club on tour

Born in New Orleans all new friends bonjour

I'm general building, international jones

And Louie scarfs down there smoking one with the homies

Walls full of vinyl

All bars are final

Leather is your wrists first name, not Lionel

International jones

Curren$y the spitta

Alchemist my nigga

Tell them ladies go figure

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