Music To Ride To

[Intro: Curren$y] Them other niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I (Verde Terrace) Let me drag two more chairs out here with me Niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I [Verse 1: Curren$y] Dressed like I got somewhere to go But I'm just smokin' my trees, prolly sweep the patio Thumb through a few magazines; Complex, Robb Report Surf the internet, reserve some time at a Dubai resort I'm on the grind, fool, I ain't a child no mo' But I play the fuck outta thirsty ho It ain't a game, it's the planes, brushing off my clothes But ain't nothing on my back 'cept my wings, pardon me bro As I make my way to the change, carve my place out in history Get rich and stay the same, enclave Palm tree shade, have kid Happily raised, George Burning through my old age [Hook: Curren$y] Yeah, mind on my money, money on my mind I’m double time on my hustle and all your bitches mine It’s that riding smoking music for you to smoke and ride to Other niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I Mind on my money, money on my mind I’m double time on my hustle and on your bitches mind It’s that riding smoking music for you to smoke and ride to Other niggas try to do it ain't sounding like I [Verse 2: Young Roddy] Ain't nobody fuckin' with my team, man I put that shit on g's She love me when I met her, cussin' at me when I leave Shit, she acting like those bills mad cheap Girl, it cost to be the boss around this piece, can I breathe? Cuz all I do is grind, write rhymes and smoke weed You know, burn down a tree Tire marks as I burn down the street, take heed When that money speak ain't life for free, but pretty as can be From low class to living comfortably All from being a beast on these beats Smoking that loud pack as I creep, them plane-haters ain't talkin' 'bout shit Them lame niggas ain't nothing like me Trying to get a bite to eat, a plate for free, nigga please I know cats who been grinding all week. Why sleep when that money on yo street? I was taught to get cheddar in a hurry You play checkers and get your ass buried, boy [Hook] [Verse 3: Trademark Da Skydiver] Same old shit, just a different day New weed I’m twisting up, I break it down and lift me up, Jet Life Nigga what? I’m high as fuck in the cut Just chillin', count this paper up You know the life of a villain, sport cars and women Popping them polo collars, partner, all well denims Over them Guccis no stunt thats how a nigga living, on g’s Bitch please, my paper peeling Look I’m addicted to this shit and I can’t fight the feeling Still tryna to stack my dollars up from the floor to ceiling Niggas hating on us, we ain’t tripping off your feelings 365, 24/7, we making a killing spittin' the shit that we living [Hook]