4 Hours & 20 Minutes (Ride to H-Town) Curren$y (Ft. Killa Kyleon)

[Intro: Curren$y]
Ugh, yeah
Roll something up, lil' mama, we can smoke in here (Yeah)
Yeah
Lames catch feelings, we catch flights, fool (Ugh)
Ugh, where haven't we been... yet?
Ugh, lames catch feelings, we catch flights
Ugh, yeah (Down South)

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Now, some of these niggas is so deceptive
Usin' my style, pimpin', you foul
Want be the top gun son, though Spitta don't have a child
Ninety-six Impala digit dash read a hundred miles and—
Runnin' straight rhyme, butta layin' the lace
Sweet revenge, funnel cakes, watch the bulls and pony race
Lamborghini Ferrari shoot-out, at the grand prix
V-12 screamin' like a banshee
Pokemon, try to catch 'em all, before them hoes get out the parking lot
Bitches who tryna move up be quick to choose us
Shorty say she dig my music, but sometime, I lose her
Open up her mind, pass that rapper weed over to her
Free game, you should sponge it up, mama—loofah
Loser, used her, sent her back to you a lil' bit looser
Roofless coupes is vicious, shit ruthless
Two triple-black C-5s, double homicide, yeah