Curren$y, N.O.R.E., Styles P - Boss Dealings lyrics
[Curren$y, N.O.R.E., Styles P - Boss Dealings lyrics]
To make a million dollars
I know some chicks who try to
Make it from they baby fathers
I know some niggas that will shoot
You right in front the cops
And do that 23 hour locked in the box
As a youth I prayed I make it out of poverty
Without rap, I would still be into robbery
Self conscious, self made
Got my life out of coach, upgrade
They try to claim it’s a brand new game
Some brand new nigga sounded brand new lames
A brand new view from young OG’s perspective
I love Newport so I iced out the necklace
I grew out of that, and got rid of it
And made chicks eat chicks on they period
Eww uh that’s nasty, got a song with Cassie
That should prolly tell you that
I’m at least half classy
Reefer smoke, reefer smoke
Fuck it let the reefer smoke
They can’t afford the sour so they
Go and get the cheaper smoke
It’s premeditated, I’ma highly dedicated
Highly medicated, shit, fuck it nigga
Smoking a Jernt, scribbled in my tablets
Stoned thoughts nigga
Scatter brained mathematics
Weed blurring my vision
Still see them digit's add up
To that Bentley truck
Parking sensor's beeping when I back up
I ain’t got it now
But by the time you hear this
I instagram that motherfucker, hot boxing it
So many clouds we smoking
Looking like a rolling explosion
Them bad bitches know him
Kush and Gucci cologne
Releasing they pheromones, she horny
Looking for escape route, her man’s be on it
Cops style, that bitch wild
I’m parked outside, i'm waiting on her
Back door flow
Ho sled in the coupe with weed rolled up
Drove off, Jet life never die, G code Cuz
Pinky finger’s frozen, Cuban link golden
Only built for that shit that
Them niggas kill for
Audio dope, fly as everything you never saw
Forever raw yeah, that’s us dog
Nigga you ain’t getting high
What the fuck you give a fuck for
I just float, and watch the money come
Hustle when I was 12, own shit when I was 21
Whether walking or driving
I’m on the money run do it for jail niggas
Microwaving they honey bun
Now everybody 'bout that life
You got shooters
I’ma shoot an eye out your life
That’s the off switch, boss shit
Couple niggas and corpses ask the security
Y’all niggas up in the office
I get busy with the pounds, keys, and Taurus
That’s a loaded gun, nigga start the Vet
Let the motor run
Light the jedi, watch Yoda come
Tell em fuck em all nigga yeah I said it
I like to buy my shit
I don’t care for credit
You can blank it out, I don’t care to edit
Any rapper alive is who I dare to set it
Yeah
It’s Ghost, Spitta, and NO, let your man know
I have your face looking like you
Just fucked up an endo ew, nigga, ew, nigga