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Currensy
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Chilled Coughphee
I'm puffin', I never get enough in
I never cook coke up on the stove top
But I'm stuffin' these nuts up in the guts
Of a slut no doubt but it's trapped inside a rubber
Should I flush that hoe out?
To use again? Well it depends do I have another one
I cuss for fun, too cool to have to buss a gun
I don't have to duck and run
I could fuck a bum up quick
But that's some tenth grade shit
And it's all about chillin', smilin', laughin'
So you know I'm willin', hollin and I'm grabbin'
At a freak before I leave best believe, I'm weeded
You rollin' that Billie Jean, bitch, beat it
And you see that we the niggaz who smoke the most
Niggaz propose a toast from coast to coast
But it don't even matter whose the highest
If it ain't dope, there ain't no hope they ain't gone buy it
Yeah, quarter tank of gas in my seven one double S
Quarter bag mostly shake but this l had to do, I guess
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GPS loaded with the coordinates
Of this bitch crib to receive love and nourishment
In the form of joints rolled, drinks poured
Her in nothing but a robe, playin' her role
I saw the mack when I was only 11 years old
And I swore to never be a simp for a hoe
Approach the closed door
It crack open before my eyes
Shorty with a doubie of her own
I am not surprised
'Cause I don't kick it on the low
With no bitches that don't get high
Serve me a to go plate
And ask if I want her to drive
'Cause I got far too much on my mind
Industrial size gears, I'm caught in a grind
At your grandma's house, plastic cover the couch
Before I sit down she question me for smellin' like a pound
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