Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Still, artist - Curren$y. Album song Weekend At Burnie's, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 23.06.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Warner
Song language: English
Still |
Homie come up outta this |
Ask yo girl who she rep she say 'yeah' |
About to land jets on some suckers houses |
Homie come up outta that side shit |
You call your girl crib |
In the background she bumping my shit |
You mad I’m at the crib cutting open vacuum bags |
Pouring some of that potent |
For the true smoking shit my homie had |
Last time I was in Cali told him he had to send me that |
Ship it to the city, so I could bend some corners |
With lil mama, tell her hit |
Some of this sticky with me |
Just being around me make her slippery |
Sexy pajamas when she visit me |
Her friends fall through, with all of that |
Over talking, baller stalking, searchin for eye contact |
So they could double back and ask G |
When I have some time free, but honestly |
Building this empire taking a lot of me |
It will be worth it though, shit good right now you find my lighter |
And my grinder it’ll be perfect ho |
And it’s still, and it’s still jets at yo motherfuckin |
As I stand here, g’d up from the feet up |
Paper on my mind, my chick scrolling that weed up |
Baby smoke it up, I ain’t tripping I just reupped |
She thought real niggas was dead I made her a believer |
Now see us, we a different breed |
Come planted from a different seed |
Since young bred to keep it M.O.B |
My life is like a movie but I’m living out the scenes |
I’m pulling acts for the racks I’m all about the cream |
By any means I hustle and scheme to fulfill my dreams |
Of better living, fatter pockets, prettier women |
Super sticky weed I’m puffing layed up in the villa |
South beach suite metropole smoking and chilling |
Waiting on my bitch to come through with some more killer |
Hit her with the D now she in love with the villain |
But my mind focus on writing raps and chopping spinach |
Can I get a witness to this g shit that I’m spitting |
At will, it’s still, it’s still, jets at yo motherfuckin |
Already |
Ok, girl, where shall I begin? |
I told her about my lifestyle she said I’m all in |
She say most niggas change you ain’t nothing like them |
So I got her high as hell, I’m talking above the rim |
But I never cared, mama blow it in the wind |
Ain’t too much changed since back then |
But now I got a couple different ways to make my ends |
They wouldn’t last a minute if they’d live where I live |
They couldn’t walk a mile in these jordans number 10's |
And I got that shit off like thank you come again |
Such a scary risk but that risk got me rich |
So need what my cash for that’s word to money mitch |
I swear im bound to break that bed when I get it in |
Haters know the set that I rep to the end |
It’s crazy I keep hearing voices in my ear, telling me to get paid |
My reply bet I will and it’s still, it’s still |