| Pulled up like FedEx
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| Double R headrest
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| Pulled up like FedEx
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| Double R headrest
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| Bad bitch sleeping on a Crooks and Castles bed set
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| Got keys to her pad but I didn’t smash yet
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| More concerned with her cash skills then how her ass is
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| (Verse 1: Curren$y)
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| Pulled up like FedEx
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| Double R headrest
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| Pulled up like FedEx
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| Double R headrest
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| Bad bitch sleeping on a Crooks and Castles bed set
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| I got keys to her pad but I haven’t smash yet
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| More concerned with her cash skills then how her ass feel
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| Money make her, yea baby girl that’s what your ass is
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| Selling dreams to them suckers she be making mad chips
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| She share it with me cuz them simps don’t compare to me
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| When she get turned on she look at me like she scared of me
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| Money in the race, pulled up on the homie Killer Mike at the black owned bank
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| Dropped a hundred thousand dollars in the safe, we been eating on the road
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| Bitch stacking up to go play, all a nigga know
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| Living the fast way, weed burning slow
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| In a Versace ash tray, Gucci butter dishes
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| Air Max in colorways, that you could never get
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| If you robbed a factory, I got it right now
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| You could try it out after me
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| (Chorus: Curren$y)
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| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
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| Ounces I’ve weighed
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| Audio dope keep us paid
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| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
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| Ounces I’ve weighed
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| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
|
| Ounces I’ve weighed
|
| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
|
| Ounces I’ve weighed
|
| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the
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| (Verse 2: T.Y.)
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| Uh, jumped in the game when I boarded the plane
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| Yea, parked the Wraith just to hop in the Mulsanne
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| Yea, all these colors in my damn chain
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| It’ll make yo bitch do some real strange things
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| Straight to the freaky shit, then I delete the bitch
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| I get stoned on some real Cheech & Chong shit
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| I know you liked every song but whats your favorite
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| We can get loaded while I play that shit
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| Live in color, me and my niggas like no other
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| Word to my mother, daddy, uncle and lil brother
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| We ain’t gon suffer, cuz I’m one grinding motherfucker
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| Yea, always, nigga we get paid
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| The cars you see us drive, we whip em like slaves
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| Day to day, she bring that paper, one of my ways
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| Fuck bitches get paid
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| (Verse 3: Fiend)
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| Roll up when I roll up
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| Leave the valet a tip plus the roaches
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| Stoned up in this man but I’m focused
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| Shades too dark to notice
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| I represent survivors, soldiers, who had soft white or rocked up Cola
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| I used to press cash in the sofa
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| I ain’t even asked her to come over
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| Money machine Fiend, couldn’t have seen this in my dreams
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| 20s 50s 100s with the bling
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| All this gold is just a lil something to a king
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| Bullets to a bulletproof truck is but a thing
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| Small oversight mix up, led to drop offs and pick ups
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| Penitentiary chances, to glit up, my wrist up
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| Ship pills sometimes the answer won’t pick up
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| But living in gold eyes buck and get the hiccups (?)
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| You could count my chips up
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| (Chorus: Curren$y)
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| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
|
| Ounces I’ve weighed
|
| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
|
| Ounces I’ve weighed
|
| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
|
| Ounces I’ve weighed
|
| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
|
| Ounces I’ve weighed
|
| Audio dope keep us paid
|
| Lot of speculation on the |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Speculation , by - Curren$y. Song from the album Andretti 9/30, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп