Fast Cars Faster Women Lyrics
Mainly I been thinking 'bout GT
Crawling South Beach in the middle of the street now
All things trippin' I'll accept the penitence when I gett 'em
If the papers weren't so thick I'd probably roll them join in the middle
Fool, ain't no spillage so I plan to go and get it
We all like the gangs, I just got mad a lil bit quicker
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricenter.com/e83668-currensy~fast_cars_faster_women_lyrics.html ]
A glimpse into this jet living
As fast cars, faster women
I woulda been mega pimpin'
I ain't had the time to put in it
Though I still make official, man it's distrising the whistle
There's no gang deliver direct TV, Sunday tickets
Suckers can't be down so they just be mad with us
We don't drink or smoke our heads with those ass kissers
You gotta be your own man for whatever call you listen
They gon' have to call me billionaire
Jet this shit
They scared of my huštle, they still love me
Black shelter moment running
You can't come in here folk some money
Keeping numbers doubling,
If it ain't about the mouse, then it ain't about nothing
Scared of my hustle, bitch still love me
Black chevy motor running you can hand cuff me,
Yeah folks
Sell money, keeping numbers doubling
If it ain't about the mouse, then it ain't about nothing
I begin my day off with a half
Now collecting all the cash
Bust you in your damn now
Million pows of agitation
Show me all your registration
Bill niggas I'll be impatient
Clutching no hesitation
I rose up, I shake the crowd with my presence
Bitches šcream my name, you tell your nigga yeah I said it
Run and tell the message, motherfuckers keep up gossip
You see more money, more power
You tell me how you nigga sorry
The second they call it, I stay on it, never fall in love
Still a woss, yeah you sink if your heart is stole
You played the cards, point seen, money lost,
Taken off in a jet like till you quit the CA in the next life
See your forever paid, roll the gazelle shades
I got it made, cloud smoke you know my nigga day
So that's the model that I live by
Primal seeking all that emo in the eve wine
Scared of my hustle, bitch still love me
Black chevy motor running you can hand cuff me,
Yeah folks
Sell money, keeping numbers doubling
If it ain't about the mouse, then it ain't about nothing