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(feat. Big K.R.I.T., Smoke DZA) [Verse 1: Curren$y] |
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Box Chevy, |
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No Tint Floatin inside... aquarium |
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Yeah that's him, |
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Compository sketches is all |
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They can't catch us... |
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Jet Setta's |
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I jointed the mile high club somewhere over texas |
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Plotted my climb since the homie played the black lexus |
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I told em put it all on spitta |
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Guaranteed winner, then a go getta |
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Ain't gotta go no where, |
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I already came here with it |
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Pull up at the picnic |
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El Camino on 13's |
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Red nose pit bulls in the back, |
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No leash Mu'*****as well-trained, on the low |
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I be havin that high grade |
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Talkin bout how a ***** smoke n maintain |
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That's word from a bird and a fuzzy herb tree |
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Fly tell that you ain't heard that from me [Verse 2: Big K.R.I.R.T.] |
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True vision and the impeccable timing |
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*******ne so the blinded don't look twice |
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My Fresh don't it look nice |
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Yo DNA ain't the same pimp so naw you don't look right |
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***** it, I fast forward past yours... |
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You wanted something to look up to so ask for it |
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Mississippi country bumpkin with nothin to loose |
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I BB a king so let me sing you the blues |
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Let me lay down the rules, |
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Get money by all means, |
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Survive at all costs put god 'bove all things |
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I fall Short... pimpin women with small shorts |
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Reachin out for a smile like children and small folk |
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Always above the rim like what do you ball for? |
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If you ain't spending money then what did u call for |
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I look good for the *****, but baby it's all spoke |
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The game is a ***** and shawty she all choke [Verse 3: Smoke DZA] |
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Came through to conquer |
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We killin this since contra |
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No sponser and |
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I'm smokin on a mini launcher 8 grams ***** ***** with me |
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Gotta have 8 lungs to come puff with me |
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I don't blow reggie bush, neva would |
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This heavy kush, oh you got some too?... very good |
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With a grinder... we grinders, top rhymers |
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Definers, drop gems so timeless |
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Burn like a |
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CD, get topped like |
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ZZ Flow like agua and |
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I'm cold like a ski beat |
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Lawd... got them hood *****s quotin my bars |
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And them bloggers like oh my gawd... |
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Smokee robinson, earl james, and george kush |
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Round table eatin pasta like mobsta's |
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Make a killin off sour |
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D They lied money really do grow off trees... yes |
