The Seventies

[Verse 1: Curren$y] Yeah, right back like I left my cell phone in the sofa cushion Pay attention to 'em, show you how a pro do it To the edge I push it, clearing over the ledge Long way from down there so don't look if you're scared On the quest for the bread, like I'm trying to build a sandwich Tall enough to put me next to the moon if I was to stand on it That's all, you niggas sugary, get caught in the rain and dissolve Reinforced frame, now Spitta too strong Sucka niggas ain't built to last that long They out of ammunition making whack ass songs Rap ain't wrong, it's just fucked up, not like that forever though Because you got us, good weed, bad bitches among us Try not to let this bullshit become us We the Jets, my nigga only God is above us [Hook: Curren$y] Crusin' in my 'lac with a diamond in the back Bad bitch in the passenger seat she twistin' up a sack I know this ain't the seventies, I'm feeling like the Mac Goldie, you can't hold me from collecting these stacks Full steam ahead, no time for looking back While I was off you niggas was getting fat It's my time boss I need parts of all that If I ain't on my grind then what you call that [Verse 2: Curren$y] Heavens to Betsy somebody catch me, I'm fallin' Hopefully I land on both Jordan's Get right back to the sky with another bong rip Another broken celly maybe I should buy a phone clip Stop it, I would never rock it Like my wallets, my money and my rubbers all in my pockets You already know what's in them Louie pouches It's prescribed so I ride with at least a couple ounces Never seen lions pouncin' on their prey Real shit, that's how I approached the beat today These, niggas is slippin', butterfingers going to the bar Don't leave your broad you better bring her with you boy Or you'll be filing a missing person report for her Picture on a milk carton at the Krogers Winn-Dixie or whoever your local grocery freezer If I didn't think I would lose my account I would of U Streamed her [Hook: Curren$y] Crusin' in my 'lac with a diamond in the back Bad bitch in the passenger seat she twitstin' up a sack I know this ain't the seventies, I'm feeling like the Mac Goldie, you can't hold me from collecting these stacks Full steam ahead, no time for looking back While I was off you niggas was getting fat It's my time boss I need parts of all that If I ain't on my grind then what you call that