Curren$y (Currensy)
Curren$y (Currensy) - Sunroof lyrics
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[Featuring: Corner Boy P] [Verse 1: Curren$y] Money in my bank account, money in my denim Money on these bitches' brains, they be tryna get it Tryna run my pockets but I'm not tryna hear it That's mine baby - what is you deaf, blind, crazy? That ain't my Mercedes, that's my homeboy Benz That's too new for me, I'm so vintage loaf Cuban link, yellow gold, bought a British automobile Cause I watch Layer Cake too many times And I had access to too much of that scrilla mine Let me ride, these hoes got me feeling like Dre Chronic high, these blades got me feeling like UGK, coming down [Hook: Curren$y] Middle finger out the sunroof, fuck a hater That's a message, when a nigga ride through, I'm 'bout my paper These hoes got a nigga all confused, think I'mma save 'em They say that I'm them other dudes, got me mistaken It's a whole 'nother world 'round here, a hundred baby These niggas stacking change but these niggas ain't changing It's a whole 'nother world 'round here, this shit amazing The word spreading fast and these bitches say I made it [Verse 2: Corner Boy P] And nigga I'm still lane switching and pimpin I'll save a half a dub before I save her And that's 'til I die, I be as G as can be Tell my mama when I go, bury me in a mink My bitch say I need to change my ways and be more honest I tell her ain't nothing change but the change in your spot ain't promised All these bitches at my neck, I don't need an extra collar And lames can stay in they lane, causing traffic jams and pile ups So it's Jets up over every, and them plans land in dally Three phones, still can't reach me with that shit you tryna tell me Cause I vow to keep it trill, only focus on my mills I done blew niggas deals on wheels, ride past road kill [Hook] [Verse 3: Curren$y] I'm riding on elbows, money green El Do Rado I'm moving with 7 grams in my shell toes Thinking 'bout pinky rings, might snatch me a pair of those Pressed against my steering wheel, shining like a phantom grill Didn't switch because I picked them chips up, I stayed real Short bed Chevy pickup on off set 3 piece wheels Muscle car maniac, wherever the bank be at We thinking 'bout taking that president masses potato sacks I'm puffing that danger pack, counting a paper stack Laying up in Palm Springs, working on my golf swing Smoked out, flying over the gulf, in a Gulf Stream Indulging in delicacies, Jet Life is a legacy Yea... [Hook]Songwriter(s): Daryl Harleaux, John Fitch, Shante Franklin Copyright: Magnolia 3rd Ward Publishing, Songs Of Street Customs, Get It Yaself Musik Official lyrics powered by