curreny – 442 lyrics
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
i’m rolling past that bmw
that new sh-t pretty, these old schools move
i ride city to city, my motor fine-tuned
i’ve got your girl with me, she so unfollowed you
i’m on a paper mission, caper to count the loot
we super fly fishing, we’ve got some gucci shoes
started with no pot to p-ss in, now i smoke pot and kick it
beautiful stranger tryna get more familiar
new orleans know i feel ’em, wherever i go, i bring ’em
real n-gg-s in the building, smoked out any whip i’ve driven
only focus is getting in the door
so we ripped it up off the f-cking hinges like
where the dope? we know it’s in here
they already told us get it here
can we ball? so high on this motherf-cking jet
check my rhymes, i ain’t told it, not yet
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
we coming through, convertibles and coupes
my og told me ‘smash anything in front you’
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
convertibles and coupes
if it’s ’bout that cash, no telling what we’ll do
money to the ceiling
pimpin’ is a gift i opened way too early
like my hair curly, redbone curvy
make ’em run from this’
alright, lipstick on my boxers, these b-tches love my posture
quite frankly i’m sinatra, i’m shark and you tilapia
i’ve got on payroll, but i grab my binoculars
i’m looking for a reason to tell my n-gg-s i don’t need ’em
alright, revenge taste better than p-ssy
man, ain’t got no purple, gotta get it from whoopi
i’mma put it in your mouth, i don’t know how else to put it
i bet they ain’t f-cking with me, where’s the bucket
alright, i’m a motherf-cker, quote-on-quote
she ride this d-ck like it came off the showroom floor
lil’ tunechi aka no baking soda, i’m high, lamar odom
i’m smoking like a motor
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
we coming through, convertibles and coupes
my og told me ‘smash anything in front you’
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
convertibles and coupes
if it’s ’bout that cash, no telling what we’ll do
we popping off
we get to stunting, you know it’s bang or ball
rolling off, sliding free, we clear them streets
third wall, we bend them n-gg-s
reppin’ mines to the end, my n-gg-
high life, we can’t fake, so we’ll show them n-gg-s
take they b-tches, bring ’em home
stunna holla, bang and ball
laying low in my old school
top back for my old cool
stay fly in that bentley coupe
told my b-tch how to get this money
showed a b-tch how to get this money
pimping hoes, we pimp this game
got the money, we kept on running
hard top and that new school
drop top and that new school
roof wide open, out the pound with them big tools
what up? we in this jungle
what up? we keep it b-mping
what up? we shine and hustle
what up?
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
we coming through, convertibles and coupes
my og told me ‘smash anything in front you’
442, 442
i’m burning gas like a 442
we coming through, convertibles and coupes
if it’s ’bout that cash, no telling what we’ll do
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