lirik lagu curreny - armoire
for cuban links, yellow gold january cool my man
i’m from the stooler oh check out my ring
i won the super bowl in hash, i saw the mona lisa bling
not fallin’ off my -ss cuz i lean like the tower of pisa
on stained gl-ss after church, funeral services for this beat n-gg-
tryna steal my style, i can hear ‘em in my sleep
like young thieves outside tryna break in your z
28 on your double s, they hit your tranzam
for your big nose hood and you know them fools mad
i swear they make no good but i’m not surprised
cuz it’s all fair in the game, i’m f-ckin’ these b-tches to real street fame
this sh-t’s wicked, deserves a doc-mentary
dance stocks on my feet, i’m walkin’ ancient history
n-gg-s is beast height, tryna be like what we write
ain’t nothin’ but that jet life
i’m talkin’ stacks on the walls, floors, ceilings
a house made of money, filled what i’m building
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
i’m talkin’ pounds in the fridge, hundred stacks in the armoire
constant reminders of what the f-ck i grind for
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
still had it, just set mathematics
from the city of chopper clappers, 11 crack it
all levels completed, b-tch i’m all man
smokin’ out the e cl-ss wagon, adjust that to airport action
i am mo, mr. 2door, still runnin’ triple o gang on my new hose
more than one time was i told that i was too cold
gucci mane tryna beat grizzly garth on his own foundation lane
and from there, a mansion rolls
when my driver bring your b-tch -ss home, aks ‘er how the candy roll
you could tell that she was with daddy, just smell her clothes
money and smoke, that’s all i know
i’m talkin’ stacks on the walls, floors, ceilings
a house made of money, filled what i’m building
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
i’m talkin’ pounds in the fridge, hundred stacks in the armoire
constant reminders of what the f-ck i grind for
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
cuz this rap sh-t just my hustle baby, we paper chasin’
writer: franklin, shante / fitch, john a / harleaux, daryl anthony / brisco, roderick / washington, alex
lyrics © kobalt music publishing ltd.
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