Lyrics Out The Window - Curren$y, Trauma Tone

Out The Window

You could turn it up some mo'\nYeah\nShe throw her morals out the window for designer clothes (Designer clothes)\nMy advice to a young hustler is to guard your soul (Guard your soul)\nMade a million off endorsements, this here month alone (This here month alone)\nYou could bullshit with rap all the fuck you want (Trauma Tone)\nPush a button, I’m in motion and my top gone (Top gone)\nCreeping slow like that mud in the styrofoam (In the styrofoam)\nAll I know is grab the dough and pray we make it home (Make it home)\nGive it all to my son just in case I don’t (In case I don’t)\nFuck we waiting on? I’m tryna get it on (Get it on)\nChilled glass of 'Vión when the night’s warm (Warm)\nAnd my crib is a castle, I’m too high for the hassle (High for the hassle)\nBoxing my shadow, my jab fast as a Camaro\nCould never be compared to, they don’t do what I do\nMake them fools aware who inspired all your moves\nSunday, you know we bring them low-riders through\nAs a fact, make a landmark wherever I park my cars at\nShe witnessed that, it stirred up some feelings\nShe deserted her man to spend the night with the drug dealers\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\n(That's like every time)\nShe throw her morals out the window for designer clothes\nMy advice to a young hustler is to guard your soul (Guard your soul)\nI made a million off endorsements, this here month alone (Alone)\nYou could bullshit with rap all you want, the fuck you trippin' on?\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nAnd keep the E in it, Chevy’s on switches, nigga\nWe smoking weed in it, don’t post me in your pictures\nHitting switches on Chef Highway dippin'\nBaby, if you could keep a secret, we could always kick it\nI told her rule number one, don’t talk about me 'round your nigga\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nShe throw her morals out the window for designer clothes\nMy advice to a young hustler is to—\nI made a million off endorsements, this here—\nYou could bullshit with rap all the fuck you want