โหลดเพลง mp3 Showroom - Curren$y

Showroom - Curren$y
Yea, when the speedometer

reads 70 miles per hour

A spoiler is deployed from the trunk

Less wind resistance, more power

You ain't sat in nothing like this once (niggaa)
Fresh from the pages of Car & Driver

To the possession of high pilots

File it in my collection
With the rest of my shit

Up-to-date bill sheets,

documented mileage

Handbook in the console

I know everything about it

Got yo woman wet, she need goggles

See me on the set, I'm the picture of survival

Live in the flesh, dropping bombs on my rivals

We the motherfucking JETS

You just motherfucking clown shoes

Borrowing ya big homie jewelry shooting virals

Never wheeling them cars,
just standing by them

Not really knowing them broads,

just standing by them

No first class tickets,
you just buy the stand-by ones

I'm adding dollars, you admiring
I'm Words With Friends
whole time in-flight wireless

Email full of condo prices

Marble or granite,
kitchen islands

Got a mill out the deal
I'm still on the grind

(JET life on these niggas yeah)

Got 10 more coming just give me some time

(JET life on them bitches yeah)

Putting it all together got something in mind

(JET life on them niggas yeah)

Show them better than
I can tell them they gon feel me

Show them better than
I can tell em they gon' feel me

Niggas I came up with
changing up say they gone kill me
If they ever catch me slipping
I dont give a fuck, sincerely

I know they just emotional,

they love me, they fear me
They like my women, they see me steering,
wish they was in it
Jealousy, just feeding em negative energy

I put my hands together praying for my friend-emies

Only let paper chasers dwell in this vicinity

Can't violate the JET code without penalty

Even family get let go "Fredo, you killing me"
I work hard, bloggers thinking that it's 10 of me
Dropping record after

record like them bitches slippery

I like nice shit and I know how to get it

Hustle dumbass,
it's not rocket science or Quantum Physics
Get on task fool, Trap til a trillion
Wrote these raps in New Orleans and
performed them in New Zealand
Word to Pusha T and that's legal drug dealing

"My God", what a feeling
engineering
, Decepticon ceilings

Push button disappearing

when the drizzle clearing
I'll probably be laid in the enclave, until then

Jet miss in the kitchen grilling up steaks

It'll smell like Ruth's Chris in a minute fool,
you want a plate?
The hero unsung when I'm done they'll say I'm great