• Tag Archives Chorus Curren
  • Curren$y – Speculation Lyrics

    (Intro: Curren$y)
    Pulled up like FedEx
    Double R headrest
    Pulled up like FedEx
    Double R headrest
    Bad bitch sleeping on a Crooks and Castles bed set
    Got keys to her pad but I didn’t smash yet
    More concerned with her cash skills then how her ass is

    (Verse 1: Curren$y)
    Pulled up like FedEx
    Double R headrest
    Pulled up like FedEx
    Double R headrest
    Bad bitch sleeping on a Crooks and Castles bed set
    I got keys to her pad but I haven’t smash yet
    More concerned with her cash skills then how her ass feel
    Money make her, yea baby girl that’s what your ass is
    Selling dreams to them suckers she be making mad chips
    She share it with me cuz them simps don’t compare to me
    When she get turned on she look at me like she scared of me
    Money in the race, pulled up on the homie Killer Mike at the black owned bank
    Dropped a hundred thousand dollars in the safe, we been eating on the road
    Bitch stacking up to go play, all a nigga know
    Living the fast way, weed burning slow
    In a Versace ash tray, Gucci butter dishes
    Air Max in colorways, that you could never get
    If you robbed a factory, I got it right now
    You could try it out after me
    (Chorus: Curren$y)
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the

    (Verse 2: T.Y.)
    Uh, jumped in the game when I boarded the plane
    Yea, parked the Wraith just to hop in the Mulsanne
    Yea, all these colors in my damn chain
    It’ll make yo bitch do some real strange things
    Straight to the freaky shit, then I delete the bitch
    I get stoned on some real Cheech & Chong shit
    I know you liked every song but whats your favorite
    We can get loaded while I play that shit
    Live in color, me and my niggas like no other
    Word to my mother, daddy, uncle and lil brother
    We ain’t gon suffer, cuz I’m one grinding motherfucker
    Yea, always, nigga we get paid
    The cars you see us drive, we whip em like slaves
    Day to day, she bring that paper, one of my ways
    Fuck bitches get paid

    (Verse 3: Fiend)
    Roll up when I roll up
    Leave the valet a tip plus the roaches
    Stoned up in this man but I’m focused
    Shades too dark to notice
    I represent survivors, soldiers, who had soft white or rocked up Cola
    I used to press cash in the sofa
    I ain’t even asked her to come over
    Money machine Fiend, couldn’t have seen this in my dreams
    20s 50s 100s with the bling
    All this gold is just a lil something to a king
    Bullets to a bulletproof truck is but a thing
    Small oversight mix up, led to drop offs and pick ups
    Penitentiary chances, to glit up, my wrist up
    Ship pills sometimes the answer won’t pick up
    But living in gold eyes buck and get the hiccups (?)
    You could count my chips up

    (Chorus: Curren$y)
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the money I’ve made
    Ounces I’ve weighed
    Audio dope keep us paid
    Lot of speculation on the


  • Curren$y – Insane Lyrics

    (Intro: Curren$y)
    Live the life a nigga die for
    Wish ya wife would be my side ho
    Never seen a nigga fly where
    Take a ride inside a 64
    Hop out ask him what his info
    He ain’t tell ya but his bitch know
    Getting to the figures that addition digits flipping triple tell him gimme mo’
    Sent ya bitch to the corner store
    Bag of chips and a 40 Row
    They ain’t mine but the chips is
    Go give the beer to my big bro

    (Verse 1: Mr. Marcelo)
    House full of bitches, weed in the kitchen
    Hell yea nigga we living
    And all these bitches tryna get a real nigga even when a nigga ain’t pitching
    A real OG in my city lil nigga motherfucker better ask around
    I always have been a standup guy so it ain’t no backing down
    I used to make (?), now I make (?)
    Hustle all night, pray all day I’ll sleep when I’m 6 feet deep
    Pops used to sip Ol’ E, moms sip Henn on the rocks
    And I did coming up as a kid, was smoke big blunts like Ox
    I used to have dreams like ML King, then I start acting like Malcolm X
    I always did have a lot of money, I always did get a lot of respect
    Debit, credit, cash, purp, kush, hash
    Shit to real to be standing still so OG’s be chasing bags
    (Chorus: Curren$y)
    All them bitches insane, all them bitches insane
    All my whips is insane, yea, yea
    All them niggas is lame, diamonds all in my chain
    Hoes just after my fame, yea, yea
    All them bitches the same, all them bitches the same
    All my whips is the same, Diamonds all in my chain
    All them niggas is lame, that money just ain’t a thang
    Them bitches just after my fame

    (Verse 2: T.Y.)
    Look, I told that bitch, don’t be catching feelings and shit
    Right after I hit, I’m mashing off in that new Benz
    Motherfuck them tints, want you to see me and my friends
    When we steerin the Bent, ain’t gon kill you with a ratchet
    But with the way I live, yea
    She gon shake that for some tips
    But I’m not gon give a shit
    I’m gon spend that on some rims
    Stomp a nigga in some Timbs
    Just because they want pretend
    Like they gangsters but they really pussy boy your sister told me what it is
    Wake up and I grind for breakfast
    I stunt so hard that I can not help it
    Yea that Jet Life I’m gon rep it
    All these bitches the same, I just gotta accept it
    Don’t slam my door when you ride with me ho
    Yea, you cross the line and I come for your throat

    (Chorus: Curren$y)
    All them bitches insane, all them bitches the same
    All my whips is insane, yea, yea
    All them niggas is lame, diamonds all in my chain
    Hoes just after my fame, yea, yea
    All them bitches the same, all them bitches the same
    All my whips is the same, Diamonds all in my chain
    All them niggas is lame, that money just ain’t a thang
    Them bitches just after my fame