Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Armoire, artist - Curren$y. Date of issue: 04.06.2012
Song language: English
Armoire |
| For Cuban linx |
| Yellow gold, January cold, my mink |
| I’m from the the school of old, check out my ring |
| I won a super bowl of hash, I saw the Mona Lisa blink |
| Not falling off my ass |
| Cause I lean like the Tower of Pisa on stained glass |
| At the church, funeral services for this beat |
| Niggas tryna steal my style, I can hear 'em in my sleep |
| Like young thieves outside tryna break in your Z |
| 28 or your Double S, they hit your Trans-Am |
| For your big nose hood and you know them fools man |
| And I swear that ain’t no good, but I’m not surprised |
| Cause it’s all fair in the game |
| Of fucking these bitches due to your street fame |
| This shit’s wicked, deserves a documentary |
| Deadstocks on my feet, I’m walking ancient history |
| Niggas is beast hype, tryna be like what we write |
| Ain’t nothing but that Jet Life |
| I’m talking stacks in the walls, floors, ceilings |
| A house made of money, feel what I’m building |
| (Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we paper chasing) |
| (Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we paper chasing) |
| I’m talking pounds in the fridge, hundred stack in the armoire |
| Constant reminders of what the fuck we grind for |
| (Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we paper chasing) |
| (Cause this rap shit just my hustle baby, we paper chasing) |
| Still at it, Jet Set mathematics |
| I’m, from the city of choppers clappers and levee crackage |
| All levels completed, bitch I’m All-Madden |
| Smoking out the E-Class wagon |
| It’s just that «to the airport» action, I am more Mr. 2 Door |
| Still running triple O game on my new hoes |
| More than one time was I told that I was too cold |
| Gucci Mane, tryna be grizzly burr on these hoes |
| Foundation laid, and from that, a mansion rose |
| When my driver bring yo bitches home, ask her how that Caddy roll |
| You can tell that she was with daddy, just smell her clothes |
| Money and smoke, that’s all I know |