2 Chainz - Capitol lyrics

rate me

Curren$y

This Jet Life, don’t scrub, you blot that

Flow rugs in the Porsche, I’m out front and got my top back

Label me a author, forefounder of lifestyle rap

Watching these niggas borrow game

Not acknowledging where they got that

Though I fall back, let them run with that, consider those my rebel kids

Clashing with they father figure

When they know they wanna be just like him

Where might I have been without my pen

To scribble about what I done wit ‘em

Girls that I took home last night, Chevys I sat on top them rims

I’m good in front of that camera lens, weed smoke when my video spins

At her house, rolling up in her boy shorts, my mafia bitch

Plotting up, I’m counting up, going for it cause I go and get it

So you liable to see her with me, my pockets fat, my tires skinny

Loud pack, got a louder engine, 80 large, all Benjamins

Vacationing, 2 nights spending, I ain’t tripping

Fool I know how to get that back, homie my triple O showed me that

Same thing showed my how to roll them Zags

[Refrain] Curren$y (x2)

And my reputation precedes me, they already know

I keep it capital G apostrophe D

Going hard, making it look easy

Cause when I do what it do, I do it like I’m doing it for TV

2 Chainz

You know I do it like I’m doing it for do

Watch the shoes, ostrich, you know what time it is like 2 watches

My reputation, detonation on destination

I separated, elevated: get salutation

I’m seldom seen in forest green foreign machine

Dirty south but the engine clean and that pussy clean

Criminal thing, a criminal mind

I got a pocket full of dead presidents, I’mma bring them alive

Riding shotgun with that K on the side

Bitches that I’m done with, let them lay on the side

Clock on your mind, I’m ahead of your time

Hublot transform like Optimus Prime

Diamonds on, diamonds off, shawty ass kinda soft

Tattoos, lip gloss, pockets on Rick Ross

I’m fantasizing a tantalizing experience

Bitches like photography, I just take a pic

[Refrain] (x2)

Curren$y

I’m up in this, 442 on them Budnik rims

I’m what a pimp

All them gangsta bitches fuck with him

Bring ducketts in

When records wasn’t really bumping, they was in love with him

To see him balling is like drugs to them

Mama calling for that Jet to put a reservation in

Ain’t concerned where she going ‘long as she stay with him

They be seeking that foundation, stable niggas with paper

I’m all that, but I’m stingy, you ain’t write n’an one of these raps

And love, I’m so serious, you might get high from Henny

Get stupid fly at any event, spray some Ozium in that vent

Bring them hoes and tell them shake that shit, send my jail niggas flicks

We live it, she love it, in the kitchen, in the oven mitt

It’s Jet Life over e’ry bitch

And e’ry bitch ass nigga breaking they back, tryna take care of them

We get high, we laugh at them

I swear ain’t no comparin’ them to no nigga in my area

This Jet Life, no play time, we cut them hoes, you carry them

[Refrain] (x2)