Artist/Band:
2 Chainz
Lyrics for Song: Capitol
Lyrics for Album: Other Songs - 2 Chainz
Curren$y
This Jet Life, don't scrub, you blot that
Flow rugs in the Porsche, I'm out front and got my top back
Label me a author, forefounder of lifestyle rap
Watching these niggas borrow game
Not acknowledging where they got that
Though I fall back, let them run with that, consider those my rebel kids
Clashing with they father figure
When they know they wanna be just like him
Where might I have been without my pen
To scribble about what I done wit 'em
Girls that I took home last night, Chevys I sat on top them rims
I'm good in front of that camera lens, weed smoke when my video spins
At her house, rolling up in her boy shorts, my mafia bitch
Plotting up, I'm counting up, going for it cause I go and get it
So you liable to see her with me, my pockets fat, my tires skinny
Loud pack, got a louder engine, 80 large, all Benjamins
Vacationing, 2 nights spending, I ain't tripping
Fool I know how to get that back, homie my triple O showed me that
Same thing showed my how to roll them Zags
[Refrain] Curren$y (x2)
And my reputation precedes me, they already know
I keep it capital G apostrophe D
Going hard, making it look easy
Cause when I do what it do, I do it like I'm doing it for TV
2 Chainz
You know I do it like I'm doing it for do
Watch the shoes, ostrich, you know what time it is like 2 watches
My reputation, detonation on destination
I separated, elevated: get salutation
I'm seldom seen in forest green foreign machine
Dirty south but the engine clean and that pussy clean
Criminal thing, a criminal mind
I got a pocket full of dead presidents, I'mma bring them alive
Riding shotgun with that K on the side
Bitches that I'm done with, let them lay on the side
Clock on your mind, I'm ahead of your time
Hublot transform like Optimus Prime
Diamonds on, diamonds off, shawty ass kinda soft
Tattoos, lip gloss, pockets on Rick Ross
I'm fantasizing a tantalizing experience
Bitches like photography, I just take a pic
[Refrain] (x2)
Curren$y
I'm up in this, 442 on them Budnik rims
I'm what a pimp
All them gangsta bitches fuck with him
Bring ducketts in
When records wasn't really bumping, they was in love with him
To see him balling is like drugs to them
Mama calling for that Jet to put a reservation in
Ain't concerned where she going 'long as she stay with him
They be seeking that foundation, stable niggas with paper
I'm all that, but I'm stingy, you ain't write n'an one of these raps
And love, I'm so serious, you might get high from Henny
Get stupid fly at any event, spray some Ozium in that vent
Bring them hoes and tell them shake that shit, send my jail niggas flicks
We live it, she love it, in the kitchen, in the oven mitt
It's Jet Life over e'ry bitch
And e'ry bitch ass nigga breaking they back, tryna take care of them
We get high, we laugh at them
I swear ain't no comparin' them to no nigga in my area
This Jet Life, no play time, we cut them hoes, you carry them
[Refrain] (x2)
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