Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Showroom , by - Curren$y. Release date: 31.05.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Showroom |
| When the speedometer reads 70 miles per hour |
| A spoiler is deployed from the trunk |
| Less wind resistance, more power |
| You ain’t sat in nothing like this once, nigga |
| Fresh from the pages of Car and Driver to the possession of high pilots |
| File it in my collection with the rest of my shit |
| Up-to-date bill sheets, documented mileage |
| Handbook in the console I know everything about it |
| Got your woman wet, she need goggles |
| See me on the set, I’m the picture of survival |
| Live in the flesh, dropping bombs on my rivals |
| We the mothafuckin' Jets, you just mothafuckin' clown shoes |
| Borrowing ya big homie jewelry shooting virals |
| Never wheeling them cars, just standing by 'em |
| Not really knowing them broads, just standing by 'em |
| No first class tickets, you just buy the stand-by ones |
| I’m adding dollars, you admiring |
| I’m Words with Friends whole time in-flight wireless |
| Email full of condo prices |
| Marble or granite, kitchen islands, home stylings |
| Got a mill out the deal, I’m still on the grind |
| Got ten more coming just give me some time |
| Putting it all together, got something in mind |
| Show 'em better than I can tell 'em, they gon' feel me |
| Show 'em better than I can tell 'em, they gon' feel me |
| Niggas I came up with changing up say they gon' kill me |
| If they ever catch me slipping, I don’t give a fuck, sincerely |
| I know they just emotional, they love me, they fear me |
| They like my women, they see me steering, wish they was in it |
| Jealousy, just feeding 'em negative energy |
| I put my hands together praying for my friend-emies |
| Only let paper chasers dwell in this vicinity |
| Can’t violate the Jet code without penalty |
| Even family get let go «Fredo, you killing me» |
| I work hard, bloggers thinking that it’s ten of me |
| Dropping record after record like them bitches slippery |
| I like nice shit and I know how to get it |
| Hustle dumbass, it’s not rocket science or Quantum Physics |
| Get on task fool, trap 'til a trillion |
| Wrote these raps in New Orleans and performed 'em in New Zealand |
| Word to Pusha T and that’s legal drug dealing |
| My God, what a feeling |
| Italian engineering, Decepticon ceilings |
| Push button disappearing when the drizzle clearing |
| I’ll probably be laid in the enclave, until then |
| Jet miss in the kitchen grilling up steaks |
| It’ll smell like Ruth’s Chris in a minute fool, you want a plate? |
| The hero unsung when I’m done they’ll say I’m great |