Released: January 1, 2011
Songwriter: Curren$y
Jet Life, that's all, playa
Fresh weed in a glass jar, playa
Not the body, Vampire Slayer
Pull up strains like the guitar player
John Mayer, body shaking, body snatcher
Undertaker, come pick the track up, cause this was a massacre
Spitta done beat the beat right side, left, and everywhere but backwards
Holy mackerel, I'm low in the Malibu two-door, listening to Dizzee Rascal
Right up your avenue, fly as a parachute, high as a paratroop-er
Before he deployed
You ain't a D-boy, you's a fuckin' decoy
You ain't Bruce Lee, nor Bruce Leroy
Can't kick it, Bruce Bruce, you's a comedy, boy, yeah
My mission here is to destroy the wackness
On all facets, from all factions
Fools are all papers, you suckerish ashin's
Cash out, nigga, that casino magic
My girl from Cincinnati, my weed from Cali
Feel the blitz, like the O-line was happening
High Times, evergreen pine, we snappin' trees in half, and use that to make hash with
Habit of having my paper straight
Holding it down, I'm a paperweight
Knock-off baller, your paper fake
You fallin' off, and I'm home plate safe
How else can I call it than how I see it?
Can't say your name, cause I ain't see ya
Flow cold, inside door of the freezer
Fo' hoes chose, but I'm in a two-seater
Follow in a cab, or I'll catch you next weekend
Either way, baby girl, a nigga ain't trippin'
Pleading, please, I'm peeling off
Now you realize you was dealing with a boss
Never took the ride, but you took the loss
Got your friend in my drive with the top taken off
At the crib, her top get taken off
And she can share the details when she wakes tomorrow...
Yeahh
Fresh weed in a glass jar, playa
Not the body, Vampire Slayer
Pull up strains like the guitar player
John Mayer, body shaking, body snatcher
Undertaker, come pick the track up, cause this was a massacre
Spitta done beat the beat right side, left, and everywhere but backwards
Holy mackerel, I'm low in the Malibu two-door, listening to Dizzee Rascal
Right up your avenue, fly as a parachute, high as a paratroop-er
Before he deployed
You ain't a D-boy, you's a fuckin' decoy
You ain't Bruce Lee, nor Bruce Leroy
Can't kick it, Bruce Bruce, you's a comedy, boy, yeah
My mission here is to destroy the wackness
On all facets, from all factions
Fools are all papers, you suckerish ashin's
Cash out, nigga, that casino magic
My girl from Cincinnati, my weed from Cali
Feel the blitz, like the O-line was happening
High Times, evergreen pine, we snappin' trees in half, and use that to make hash with
Habit of having my paper straight
Holding it down, I'm a paperweight
Knock-off baller, your paper fake
You fallin' off, and I'm home plate safe
How else can I call it than how I see it?
Can't say your name, cause I ain't see ya
Flow cold, inside door of the freezer
Fo' hoes chose, but I'm in a two-seater
Follow in a cab, or I'll catch you next weekend
Either way, baby girl, a nigga ain't trippin'
Pleading, please, I'm peeling off
Now you realize you was dealing with a boss
Never took the ride, but you took the loss
Got your friend in my drive with the top taken off
At the crib, her top get taken off
And she can share the details when she wakes tomorrow...
Yeahh
more tracks from the album
From the album
- Return To The Winners Circle (2011)
Curren$y popular songs