[Intro: DJ Drama & Curren$y]
Just in case you need something else to roll to
Spitta, Weezy, Dram'
You know we go way back like Tony, Toni, Tone
Tryna keep dirt off my rims
Verde Terrace
These motherfuckers got me fucked up
Verde Terrace (Yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1: Curren$y]
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
But I ain't steppin on the stage until they count up all my cash flow
Oh man, then your man's going Twilight Zone
Wantin' to be left alone, again at home, listenin' to Soulja Slim
I spread that dough out, rolling pin
Slice it up with my closest friends
As the grimy globe spins, I'm riding
Tryna keep dirt off my rims and my name
Out'chea, stay poppin up at the red carpet
In my green Tahoe
With my Las Vegas bitch and one of your hoes, highed up
I like what she working with, that's why we hired her
We put her on the set, tattoo calligarphy letter "Jets"
Love and respect, we passing you the fuck up
Ain't passing you none of my bud, that's why you standing 'round us, bruh?
Are you accounted for? Who brung you?
You don't speak the code bro, your slick tongue done hung you
You walking down the aisle with the same bitches we run through
I'm in the bank line, empire
I build this for us to eat, inside—this the lunch room
Outside is looking wild hungry, fool
Shut the door so they don't see us; light a joint or two...
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Just in case you need something else to roll to
Spitta, Weezy, Dram'
You know we go way back like Tony, Toni, Tone
Tryna keep dirt off my rims
Verde Terrace
These motherfuckers got me fucked up
Verde Terrace (Yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1: Curren$y]
One for the money, yessir, two for the show
But I ain't steppin on the stage until they count up all my cash flow
Oh man, then your man's going Twilight Zone
Wantin' to be left alone, again at home, listenin' to Soulja Slim
I spread that dough out, rolling pin
Slice it up with my closest friends
As the grimy globe spins, I'm riding
Tryna keep dirt off my rims and my name
Out'chea, stay poppin up at the red carpet
In my green Tahoe
With my Las Vegas bitch and one of your hoes, highed up
I like what she working with, that's why we hired her
We put her on the set, tattoo calligarphy letter "Jets"
Love and respect, we passing you the fuck up
Ain't passing you none of my bud, that's why you standing 'round us, bruh?
Are you accounted for? Who brung you?
You don't speak the code bro, your slick tongue done hung you
You walking down the aisle with the same bitches we run through
I'm in the bank line, empire
I build this for us to eat, inside—this the lunch room
Outside is looking wild hungry, fool
Shut the door so they don't see us; light a joint or two...
Yeah, yeah, yeah
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