Birdman - 442 lyrics

[Verse 1: Curren$y] 442, 442 I'm burnin' gas like a 442 I'm rollin' past that BMW That new sh** pretty, these old-schools move I ride city-to-city, my motor fine-tuned I've got your girl with me, she so unfollowed you I'm a paper on paper mission, caper to count the loot We super fly fishin' with Yachts and Gucci shoes Started with no pot to piss in, now I smoke pot and kick it Beautiful stranger b**hes trying to get more familiar New Orleans know I feel 'em, wherever I go, I bring 'em Real n***as in the building, smoked out any whip I've driven Only focus is gettin' in the door, so we ripped it Up off the f**in' hinges like: "Where's the dope? We know it's in here" Hoes already told us, give it here f** them, we ball, so high, on this motherf**in' jet Check my rhymes, I ain't told a lie yet, n***a [Hook: Curren$y] 442, 442 I'm burnin' gas like a 442 We comin' through, convertibles and coupes My OG told me, "Smash anything in front you" 442, 442 I'm burnin' gas like a 442 Convertibles and coupes If it's 'bout that cash, there's no tellin' what we'll do [Verse 2: Lil Wayne] Money to the ceiling Pimpin' is a gift I opened way too early Like my hoes hair curly, redbone curvy Make 'em run from this dick Jackie Joyner-Kersee Alright, lipstick on my boxers, these pills f** up my posture Quick frankly I'm Sinatra, I'm shark and you tilapia I've got shooters on payroll, but I grab my binoculars I'm lookin' for my reason to tell my shooters I don't need 'em Alright, revenge taste better than p**y Man, ain't got no purple, gotta get it from Whoopi I'mma put it in your mouth, I don't know how else to put it I bet they ain't f**in' with me, where's the bookie Alright, I'm a motherf**er, quote-un-quote She ride this dick like it came off the showroom floor Lil' Tunechi aka No Baking Soda, I'm high, Lamar Odom I'm smokin' like a motor [Hook] [Verse 3: Birdman] We poppin' off We get to stuntin', you know it's bang or ball Rollin' off, slidin' free shopping spree we clear them streets Third wall, we bend them n***as Reppin' mines to the end, my n***a High life, we can't fake [?] so we'll show them n***as Take they b**hes, bring 'em home Stunna holla, bang and ball Layin' low in my old school Top back for my old cool Gave them n***as fresh game stay fly in that Bentley Coupe Told my b**h how to get this money Showed a b**h how to get this money Pimpin' hoes, we pimp this game Got the money, we kept on runnin' Hard top and that new school Drop top and that new school Roof wide open n***a out the pound with them big tools What up five? We in this jungle What up five? We keep it bumpin' What up five? We shine and hustle What up five? Bugh [Hook]