T.Y. (Rapper) - Speculation lyrics

(Intro: Curren$y) Pulled up like FedEx Double R headrest Pulled up like FedEx Double R headrest Bad b**h sleeping on a Crooks and Castles bed set Got keys to her pad but I didn't smash yet More concerned with her cash sk**s then how her a** is (Verse 1: Curren$y) Pulled up like FedEx Double R headrest Pulled up like FedEx Double R headrest Bad b**h sleeping on a Crooks and Castles bed set I got keys to her pad but I haven't smash yet More concerned with her cash sk**s then how her a** feel Money make her, yea baby girl that's what your a** is Selling dreams to them s**ers she be making mad chips She share it with me cuz them simps don't compare to me When she get turned on she look at me like she scared of me Money in the race, pulled up on the homie k**er Mike at the black owned bank Dropped a hundred thousand dollars in the safe, we been eating on the road b**h stacking up to go play, all a n***a know Living the fast way, weed burning slow In a Versace ash tray, Gucci bu*ter dishes Air Max in colorways, that you could never get If you robbed a factory, I got it right now You could try it out after me (Chorus: Curren$y) Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the (Verse 2: T.Y.) Uh, jumped in the game when I boarded the plane Yea, parked the Wraith just to hop in the Mulsanne Yea, all these colors in my damn chain It'll make yo b**h do some real strange things Straight to the freaky sh**, then I delete the b**h I get stoned on some real Cheech & Chong sh** I know you liked every song but whats your favorite We can get loaded while I play that sh** Live in color, me and my n***as like no other Word to my mother, daddy, uncle and lil brother We ain't gon suffer, cuz I'm one grinding motherf**er Yea, always, n***a we get paid The cars you see us drive, we whip em like slaves Day to day, she bring that paper, one of my ways f** b**hes get paid (Verse 3: Fiend) Roll up when I roll up Leave the valet a tip plus the roaches Stoned up in this man but I'm focused Shades too dark to notice I represent survivors, soldiers, who had soft white or rocked up Cola I used to press cash in the sofa I ain't even asked her to come over Money machine Fiend, couldn't have seen this in my dreams 20s 50s 100s with the bling All this gold is just a lil something to a king Bullets to a bulletproof truck is but a thing Small oversight mix up, led to drop offs and pick ups Penitentiary chances, to glit up, my wrist up Ship pills sometimes the answer won't pick up But living in gold eyes buck and get the hiccups (?) You could count my chips up (Chorus: Curren$y) Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the money I've made Ounces I've weighed Audio dope keep us paid Lot of speculation on the