Curren$y - 5 Bucks (5 On It) lyrics

Published

0 281 0

Curren$y - 5 Bucks (5 On It) lyrics

[Verse 1: Big Sean] OK, I'm smoking loudly, I woke them all I pick up that tree, when it's not fall I'm gone off that tree, when it's not tall I'm in love with tree, I'm an avatar I pick up a O from, my n***a Ralphy My bro and me, but he is not alphy Gone off that goo punch, it makes me drowsy Roll up the windows, it makes it cloudy, Damn, if you ain't know I made these girl night, smoke a paper and bowls My ladies like blunts, hit 'em twice if not once Then I blow 'em off and just pa** 'em to my bro Now catch you getting brain if a n***a not learning I be spending money if a n***a not earning Catch me in the backseat if I'm not stirring And I be rolling up if a n***a not burning, boy [Hook:] I got five on it Have your bowl and get beat I got five on it Nothing with that endo weed I got five on it If you got me stuck and not go back I got five on it Now let's go hop outside [Verse 2: Chip Tha Ripper:] You know a n***a like to stay at that cruising altitude up in the sky Try to f** with paper planes but it's not the same high Cleveland n***as ain't no b**hes we prefer the cigarillo smoke If you say it take away from taste then get some better smoke Cause this sh** I blow can get smelt on the next block Ain't no middle mans every thing you need is in stock This Glock is all the security I need I be solo dolo, when you see me blowing on some weed Why speed, no need, I be just taking it slow I be so clean, diesel over powers my cologne Now all the bad b**hes who blazed on shifting this way Y'all just some white belts, with leaves I am the sensai Now bow to the bag never, save the best for last When I come around n***as know to hurry up and pa** f** a dime sack, let's cop a quarter pound now What the f** is you gon' put down? n***a I got five [Hook] [Verse 3: Curren$y] How wired, 6-4 hydraulics Not stolen, lost my keys, I was high partna' f** you want? This the raw paper not a blunt You must, got me mixed up with Chip cause, This Spitta Zig zag a whole zip up, sh** strong shoulda' came with a bed pick up b**hes calling me, wanna smoke beggin' for me to pick up She blow me while I'm blowin' rings of that k**a' That weed you smoking brown, fake weed to much make up, clown Get real smoking green, strawberry fields High standing up feelin' like I'm layin' down, couple bugie Judy's came round Actin' all stuck up, now they just stuck from smokin' with us Had the hallway smellin', Is my windows opening enough? I hear walkie talkies, Is security coming up? f** [Hook]

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.