[Verse 1: Currensy] My satelite trippin', I watch TV at your girl house My homies fell through, we had a smoke-out at your girl house Dropped ashes everywhere, burnt holes in your girl's couch Put a pillow over it I was gone before she noticed it Just a glimpse into the daily happenings Of one of them flyest to ever try his wings at this rappin' shit In love with the rap hustle, I never turned my back on it I run after money that's why them bitches run after me Whack rappers on a dope beat: simple battery Hot Spitta on any beat: that's a fatality Vicious how you do it? I don't know it just comes naturally Spitters Spicoli, Zig-Zag Rollin' with my Cali homies My patience for the middle man has run out Take me to the boss like the Mike Tyson code-own punch out I'm really on my grind You just lookin' for a ride Like you standin' on the side of the road with your dumb mouth
[Hook x2: Currensy] Spitta is chillin' The Planes in the buildin' The bitches like us cause they say we different From all them other niggas say they just not with it Smoke and make music, I'm a modern day hippie
[Verse 2: Currensy] Still on my New Orleans shit, asthmatic Spitta keep a bag of Dolium and some prolactin mist I'm as vicious as it get This is rap with rabies I got a fetish for Chevy's created in the 80s And you say you riding old schools too, you all mistaking That's a 190E, just a old ass Mercedes Know a lot of niggas hate me cause my pockets getting cakey These fuck boys can't see the paper that The Plane see Bumping Paper Planes by M.I.A I'm partying in M.I.A My bitches looking for me say I'm M.I.A They trying to spy on me like the CIA Call Cheaters on me, I just say "Homie" Then I cruise the other way
[Hook x2]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
