Music To Ride To

(álbum: Spitta Andretti: Verde Terrace - 2011)

[Intro Curren$y:]
Them other niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I (Verde Terrace)
Let me drag two more chairs out here with me
Niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I

[Verse 1 Curren$y:]
Dressed like I got somewhere to go
But I'm just smoking my trees, prolly sweep the patio
Thumb through a few magazines; Complex, Robb Report
Surf the internet, reserve some time at a Dubai resort
I'm on the grind, fool, I ain't a child no mo'
But I play the fuck outta thirsty ho
It ain't a game, it's the planes, brushing off my clothes
But ain't nothing on my back 'cept my wings, pardon me bro
As I make my way to the change, carve my place out in history
Get rich and stay the same, enclave
Palm tree shade, have kid
Happily raised, George Burning through my old age

[Hook Curren$y:]
Yeah, mind on my money, money on my mind
I'm double time on my hustle and all your bitches mine
It's that riding smoking music for you to smoke and ride to
Other niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I
Mind on my money, money on my mind
I'm double time on my hustle and on your bitches mind
It's that riding smoking music for you to smoke and ride to
Other niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I

[Verse 2 Young Roddy:]
Ain't nobody fucking with my team, man I put that shit on g's
She love me when I met her, cussing at me when I leave
Shit, she acting like those bills mad cheap
Girl, it cost to be the boss around this piece, can I breathe?
Cause all I do is grind, write rhymes and smoke weed
You know, burn down a tree
Tire marks as I burn down the street, take heed
When that money speak ain't life for free, but pretty as can be
From low class to living comfortably
All from being a beast on these beats
Smoking that loud pack as I creep, them plane-haters ain't talking 'bout shit
Them lame niggas ain't nothing like me
Trying to get a bite to eat, a plate for free, nigga please
I know cats who been grinding all week. Why sleep when that money on yo street?
I was taught to get cheddar in a hurry
You play checkers and get your ass buried, boy

[Hook]

[Verse 3 Trademark Da Skydiver:]
Same old shit, just a different day
New weed I'm twisting up, I break it down and lift me up, Jet Life
Nigga what? I'm high as fuck in the cut
Just chilling, count this paper up
You know the life of a villain, sport cars and women
Popping them polo collars, partner, all well denims
Over them Guccis no stunt that's how a nigga living, on g's
Bitch please, my paper peeling
Look I'm addicted to this shit and I can't fight the feeling
Still tryna to stack my dollars up from the floor to ceiling
Niggas hating on us, we ain't tripping off your feelings
365, 24/7, we making a killing spitting the shit that we living

[Hook]