Sail On

(альбом: This Ain't No Mixtape - 2009)

[Verse 1: Young Chris]
(Chyeah, yeah, uh-huh)
Gunna! (Sail on!)
Shit was all good while it lasted
But I can't keep on? flowing?
As long as the fiends keep on itching
Nigga, the grams keep on selling
(That's right!)
Bottom of the roost
From the heart of North Philly
To the top of Hollywood
Model bitches, Cali-good
I got something that they need
That they want
I'm the supplier, shorty
Low numbers on them pretty bitches
And it's FIRE!
Ghetto be my prior
I be the one that they admire
Home of the flier
I gotta become a retire
It's a rap!
I got it from here
Yes I solemnly swear
This is a global introduction, a hottest premiere
Been the fuzziest year
Staring out of my rear
Fuck the pussy police!
We got shotties to air
Never dead body, a pair
Paid a pussies a visit
Never mind being tense
Never fuck a statistic
Never disappearance, and nobody know why he did it
It's just the code of this shit
And we live it
Curren$y kick it
(Uh kick it)

[Verse 2: Curren$y]
Yeah!
One of the masters of the drug flow
Anti-club dress code
I just ignore those
Narnia lions, different dimensions in my wardrobe
Banking on the outside of the box like a barcode. (Sail on!)
Like a seven-foot sinna
Spitta don't gotta cross ova
I just stay in the lane
Show off dunks and hang
From my goals obtained
Planes boarded
So I was already soaring
You smell it in my clothes
Mixed with cologne by Ralph Lauren
Spitta missing
You looking for him?
Take a number nigga
Never home
Gotta call me on the yacht
Floating out
Bottles popping before I left the dock
Who is that?
In the Vinny Jack?
Bumping super cat?
XJ 12
Soft top, retractable shell
Parking near the boat launch in Paris
Spending french bread
Nigga croissants
I got a flow that you can sail on
Yeah!

[Hook: {Curren$y}]
Sail on, Julia! (Yea, yep. They look up to jets nigga, now what they doin?)
Without the fears of ghosts. (Wondering if they-)
Sail on, Julia! (Crooking their necks and they looking up to the JETS.)
Without the fears of ghosts. (From the mansion to the yacht deck.)

[Verse 3: Curren$y]
(Uh)
Spitta is chilling
Jeans, paper, denim
Milk and Oreos with the double stuffed filling
On the internet
Ordering another engine
For the lavender Chevy
With the suede gray innards
Seen niggas go insane trying to get it
The thought process of a first place winna
JETS nigga!
We enter the dragon, got
Bruce Lee in the go-yard
My lethal kicks cause damage
Vaca. Puff Sour Diesel in the hammy
They hated on it
Said that it could never happen
I waited on em
As my plan was bein mastered
Have patience cause the best is the last laughing
Slashing, dancing, through my defenders
No look passing
Bitches in the rapture love my rapping with a passion
And I'm
New Orleans fliest
Do rewind this
The JETS get the highest
(Uh)

[Hook:]
Sail on, Julia!
Without the fears of ghosts
Sail on, Julia!
Without the fears of ghosts