Curren$y, Harry Fraud, Jim Jones - In the Coupe lyrics

Yeah east side all mine, just like everytime
La música de Harry Fraud

Roll around in the
Coupe with the beat on loop
Soundtrack to the movie
That I'm living through
In my lines you might find something pivotal
A couple hustlin' ass niggas
And some bitches too

Police told us to keep our hands visible
Then they ask for ID
Now tell me what should we do
Knowing you could get shot
For making sudden moves
But don't comply and you die
Is the golden rule
In the backyard smoking large
Sitting by the pool
Thinking 'bout my son man
I love that little dude
I wanna see him more, but there's a civil war
And it's risky to travel now
Too much back and forth
Make them land this motherfucker
If somebody else coughed
In the first class cabin, let us the fuck off
Now I'm back at the lab-a, BAPE tagged up
In the plastic since 2004 I had it
Niggas blow up in the game
Off styles that I crafted
But never will admit it if
Somebody was to ask 'em
From the rhyme patterns to the fashion
Sacrificial Lamb 'em, in
The Lamborghini mashin', paper tagging
Roll the fatties way bigger than the last one
Face, but never pass 'em
Critics said that I wouldn't make it
Then I made an ass of them
For the crew I alley oop and toss
It off the glass for them
Set it up easy dog
Homie get your Shaq on then

Roll around in the coupe with
The beat on loop
Soundtrack to the movie that
I'm living through
In my lines you might find something pivotal
A couple hustlin' ass niggas
And some bitches too
Roll around in the coupe with
The beat on loop
That's my dog Harry Fraud always
Bring me the truth
Roll around in the coupe with
The beat on loop

East side, you know how we doing this
Yo Curren$y, I got my race cars too, ya heard
I'm just getting 'em done up
Real quick so when
We race we gon' race for some real paper
Nigga

I ride around in my Benz
While that beat repeat
I done lost a couple friends
Tryna beat these streets
I told Harry cook up plates so
I could eat these beats
Shit you know we never lacking
That's why we keep these heats
He almost lost his mind trying
To keep that freak
He fucked around and got married
Til his knees got weak
Now seven days without prayer
That's a weak ass week
Shit he swore he had that
Coke until he got beat
He came back the same day
Tryna heat that street
Couldn't be tougher tryna keep black peace
Shit I almost drowned with so
Much water on my jewels
Now my clothes is all drippin' like
I recorded in the pool
You know I keep the hammer
Use the 40 as a tool
Me and Zeke was getting drunk right
Before we went to school but then we, shit
We popped up at the Grammys
We was buying army suit's in The Bronx
We went to Sammy's
Nowadays when you talkin' bout bars
They want the Xannies
(We was silly) We was bagging up
Coke right at my grannies
Man, the streets is like Vegas
Tryna beat the odds
And all the homies that we lost
I hope they meet our God
You never get a second chance like E deBarge
That's why we keep a fancy
Lawyer that'll beat the charge
Shit, look into my eyes and
You could see my scars
Let's not talk about no rhymes
I got a fleet of cars

Roll around in the coupe with
The beat on loop
Soundtrack to the movie that
I'm living through
In my lines you might find something pivotal
A couple hustlin' ass niggas
And some bitches too
Roll around in the coupe with
The beat on loop
That's my dog Harry Fraud always
Bring me the truth
Roll around in the coupe with
The beat on loop