Curren$y - The Usual Suspects [paroles]

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Curren$y - The Usual Suspects

Paroles: The Usual Suspects


Cookin up a batch, ladies show they titties

Real niggas tip they tops

Real trap is for my hustling niggas with no choice

Posted up, slingin that oh boy

Stay on yo grind, only way to turn a 300 to a Rolls Royce

Life is good, nah life is great

Now I’m bout to get my niggas straight

God bless a nigga with some legal ones so I can stay off the interstate

Nah, now everybody getting money

Now everybody sellin out shows

Now everybody told the world like four times

3 albums in stores

Come on straight up the morning talk

I came in with the gun talk

And when it came to this in this bread

I’m the hip-hop turn me up

I’m too real for the radio heads, I’m a underground king

But these bitches can’t stop my show

And that’s word to the pim

Loadin lops and shrimp, all these bad bitches wanna lay

I’m like fuck with a real nigga and stop feelin bad for that sim

That’s the other see she’s

Come sip some of this PG

And smoke some of this sweet tree

And everything will be BG

Uh shit, I told yo bitch like I was rolls

Mister Jones, go around the laws

Got my calls and the rob reports

I done lied em down, down the 94

I’m a label man, got a lot of those

Know how to get the picture but them lot of O

No winter burn off so it’s time to go

I’m on hot like wheels so we runnin hoe

Getting up, out the pound

Lighten up the return, it’s thanksgiving first down

Hold the flo so you can chase right now

You can get the bracelets to fit right now

Just mack hand, hold on get the back hand

She chase ghosts like Mrs. Pacman

He play the hoe to come back fam


They respect the don, 18 karats with the red rugas and the gas is on

Platinum Rolex, double robe

So walk around with a Lexus on

Courtside of my car cost

When my niggas wildin out, smoking out toss

Life’s about choices, gotta make yours

The right set of keys open up the right doors

We tryna turn around something to a lot more

You gotta go a little further than you wanna go

It’s like 100 out there, had enough blow

I’m talkin bout blow and make it B roll, a zero

I’m the other dogs’ hero

To that dope boy playin for a kilo

Til a lil nigga playin for a way out

Keep you head up Shawty, we gon make it out

Made it out now, turn the stamp, see my passport

Overseas airport

Comin through the hood, up in foreign cars

Bitch letting the weed flow

I’m hood rich, I can’t change hoe

Need to smell like weed smoke

Negotiate my record deal like a dope deal

Probably why a nigga take like a kill go

Nigga you need you a prop


Talk soft but I grind hard to afford

Don’t want them switches to my dashboard

Low riders and all, exotics to last cars

Amongst all these stars, 7 grams in a row

That’s a Grammy award and my granddaddy call

Where my granddaddy can’t go higher than the halo

Slice like tomato with precision on them blades hoe

It don’t go down until he say so, extra cheese, hold the mayo

That’s back to San Diego, now I’m hidin out

Large amount to count, just fill them duffle bags and weigh em

Spill just lay them, no fana

She’s thirsty, get a Fanta

Bitch passin out, somebody fan er