442 Curren$y (Ft. Birdman & Lil Wayne)

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
442, 442
I'm burnin' gas like a 442
I'm rollin' past that BMW
That new shit pretty, these old-schools move
I ride city-to-city, my motor fine-tuned
I've got your girl with me, she so unfollowed you
I'm a paper on paper mission, caper to count the loot
We super fly fishin' with Yachts and Gucci shoes
Started with no pot to piss in, now I smoke pot and kick it
Beautiful stranger bitches trying to get more familiar
New Orleans know I feel 'em, wherever I go, I bring 'em
Real niggas in the building, smoked out any whip I've driven
Only focus is gettin' in the door, so we ripped it
Up off the fuckin' hinges like: "Where's the dope? We know it's in here"
Hoes already told us, give it here
Fuck them, we ball, so high, on this motherfuckin' jet
Check my rhymes, I ain’t told a lie yet, nigga

[Hook: Curren$y]
442, 442
I'm burnin' gas like a 442
We comin' through, convertibles and coupes
My OG told me, "Smash anything in front you"
442, 442
I'm burnin' gas like a 442
Convertibles and coupes
If it's 'bout that cash, there's no tellin' what we'll do