Biscayne Bay

[Intro: Curren$y] Yea... Life Type shit... You need to have a driver for this Type shit you ride home too [Verse 1: Curren$y] Niggas too talkative Chatty Cathy ass simps, I'm on this bossin' shit My homie just came home, he got a corner office in this Empire, I constructed brick by brick, this rap hustling Tennis shoes, t-shirts, lunchboxes, fuck it If it could be sold then lets do it, if it could be sold we gon' move it I got the driveway to prove it, crazy high, but I'm not stupid Blood hound know where the loot is, bring my homies straight to it [Verse 2: Curren$y] My bitches gettin' high to the music My gangsta bros before me show me exactly how to do it You only gon' get out it, whatever you put into it So I go extra to make sure my shit come with the leather The sunroof, the carbon fiber, Alcantara whatever Navigation, blue tooth, all kind of shit I never use Sittin' in that skyline, the style of a stockbroker Storytellin' weed slanging pot smoker Revolutionary, rollin Chevy till I fall over Told em, bury me a G and let my momma have the cheese Though I'll never die cause the music livin' in the streets That's all that matter to me Cause this other shit ain't real, them hoes just fuckin' because of that deal These niggas livin' life with you until they just get jealous and you get killed I'm just ridin',smokin',prayin' That the lord keep them away, and we keep gettin' this money Cause we legends in the makin', I'm sayin' ...life