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Curren$y – Fat Albert lyrics

I got stars in the roof of my car, girl
Recognize where you are, girl
Jet Life this a stoner's world
Lowride like my OG's, who wore them Jheri curls
Circa 85's
Now my Daytons spin same time I roll around
Talk my shit a lil bit 'cause I worked hard
Two laps in the parking lot show my shit off
Bad bitches please tell them haters stay off my dick
Set bubble like a coffee pot
Them niggas talking so much but what are they talking 'bout
Coupe interior brown leather the stiching, blue berry muffin
They know I'm finna come up with something
Rap hustling a lil bit like pack running
Making stacks from it
Racks like where we put the hunting guns at
Black on a Phantom
White on a Ghost
Suede Adidas Campus
Stepping on your throat, never lettin' go
Blew a pound and they told you "go outside to smoke"

It's Lil Tunechi from New Orleans, Lord
With the chauffeur and the car with the two R's, Lord
Lived next door to Jennie that went to Beauregard
She broke my virginity and I love her for it
Friends turn into frenemies and they've come and gone
Cut the check or we gon' cut your fucking bungee cord
Make these bitches jump for joy, make 'em fuck my boys
If they ain't a freakazoid then they just annoying
This for the smokers and the real ones
Pussies get the dildo, I get the deal done
Back like I left something, Weezy F something
Bad bitch 'bout to swallow all my stress for me
Bad bitch stop and poppin' like Steph Curry
Rich nigga laughin' at his bills like Bill Murray
Hot potato on the nose of the hand gun
Outchea dodging handcuffs like a Ram truck
Out here looking handsome, fucking dancers
Tryna see my mansions, get expansions
Tryna see my homeboys in they own toys
Kush got my eyes looking like Chong Yoing
Don't know no better
Dick got the bitch walking like Uncle Fester
And your homie talk aloud 'bout what he gon' do
You know your homie ain't your homie 'til he bleed on you
You know you never know you love her 'til she cheat on you
You know you never know your brother 'til he dethrone you
You know Lil Tunechi been a soldier since T-R-U
Fuck a heated arguing, we let the heat argue
P-I-R-U brazy like glue
S-Q-U-A-D wavy like the sea
And Lil-T just told me to knock the nigga's brain out
I got a chopper I bet I can shoot a plane down
Pussy ass niggas looking for a way out
I tape some kilos to her, put her on a Greyhound
Coming down from cloud 9 like a raindrop
I'm 'bout to buy a ring of the size of a ring pop
I got some bitches in bikinis like Baywatch
And we in Carrollton in a Chinese kitchen gettin' take out
Hollygrove Tune

Ya dig, Carrollton Heist nigga
Spitta, fuck with me
Carrollton Tunechi I'm gone



Lyrics taken from /lyrics/c/curreny/fat_albert.html

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