Curren Y 1942 Lyrics

Shout out to French, bitch, you know dats my nigga
When he come to the city I pull up and smoke dat killa wit 'em
Shout to Harry Fraud he the one who did this for the homie
No, they don't mind if I kill it
And I know my brother Fendi P done went silly on this beat for sure
But I just wan' kick it some more
A couple bottles of Moe
I got the premo pre rolls galore
Custom studio minutes from the corner store
The lil homies a go and grab whatcha need
You just gotta give 'em the keys to your V
Trustworthy youngins bring yo shit back in one piece
They kinda remind me of me back in the G how it use to be
I was driving DoDo's Rover, C-Murders Excursion, Taz Cadillac, Rest in Peace Soulja
Some of the greatest stories never told 'em not showimg in the cinema is my Rhyme Folder
I know what I'm holding million dollar lines is inside nigga I know it
The ink in my pen is straight golden
Flowing, shawty wanna baller one from New Orleans
First we had the Jazz den we had the Hornets
Den they move they ass back to Charlotte now fly Pelican fly high high as the stars get
To some I'mma inspiration to some I'mma target
And I'm so ready for all of it
Your company will not survive the audit
Get yo motherfuckin' financials in order
Is you a boss or a artist?
Is you eatin' or is you starvin'?