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Correct The Usual Suspects Lyrics
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Currensy
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Correct The Usual Suspects
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Lyrics:
[Verse:] 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 [Verse:] 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 Goddamn! [Verse:] 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 Goddamn! [Verse:] 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
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