Wiz Khalifa – 2009 + Lyrics

2009  Album by Wiz Khalifa Lyrics

Wiz Khalifa - 2009 + Lyrics

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Garage Talk Lyrics
[Intro: Wiz Khalifa] Uh

[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]

I just got the fuck off a plane

6 car garage, I got more than 1 job

Be a boss, go hard

Wake up, smelling kush when I yawn

Shorty wanna fuck with the king, tired of them pawns

Ain’t on the top? Well, that’s nonsense

Bank account full of G’s, so that’s all you gon’ get

TSA know my face so they don’t trip

Chain frost, big bitch that I’m with don’t give me no lip

We done touch M’s, now we on to billions

Hard to explain how these new rugs feeling

Blow my kush up in high ceiling’s

Having meetings at the crib, confidential dealings

And I ain’t gotta tell you who the realest is

That’s my nigga Spitta, foreign cooked chef

And where the kitchen is

Money straight where my business is

And the girls fuck with me so I’m always where the bitches is

Kid

[Bridge]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I see all the sexy mami’s in here

Hey, ayy, Wiz I smell you up here, too

Make sure you pass that KK to the DJ booth

Aw shit, here comes Spitta on them gold BBS

 

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

Yep, swung through, gold BBS and the spoiler kit

1986, slinging that shit

They want the family price on them bricks

But I just had a son and I only love him

So I ain’t coming down on the price

Ain’t no where else you gon’ get shit this nice

Got cocaine white, Air Force Nikes

Bought K-Swisses for all my bitches

Put hightop troops on all my shooters

Bought the Goose down jacket from the booster

Shootouts on the roof, racing in them coupes

She wore the Gucci frames with the door knocker hoops

And the lying motherfucker tell you I ain’t the truth

Rich uncle come through, pop the truck, pull the duffel

Lay the merchandise out, get the loot, motherfucker

East side real nigga, show ya how to hustle

Outside, put the fucking Chevrolet’s on the bumper

If it don’t hop, nigga, park that shit

That ain’t no low rider, thats a rollin’ imposter

Put the stocks on fool, quit playing like you out here

2009, all kind of high

High fly handfuls on the moon trying to drive

Its a stoned duo, solid gold jewel though

Kicked the fuck out that game and now she won’t go

[Outro]

Ladies, if you ain’t go your own drinks, you gotta get out the section

You heard my man Spitta

Fellas, raise your glasses

Tip your bartenders

And make sure you take that nigga bitch

We bout to ride out

Jet Life, Taylor Gang, ow




10 Peace Lyrics
[Verse 1: Curren$y]

By the code, the game a decade old

I’m livin’ like Ox, big-ass house, weed nuggets in the bowl

I don’t watch soccer, but I like the jerseys

They look good with my jewelry on

And my butter brown skin tone

Bitches choosin’, but none I bring home

I break ’em off on sight

Introduced ’em to the rest of the stage, done like a couple nights

If she’s really down, soul on ice like my Rollie crown

We control the town from the couch, nigga, I’m smoked out

You really want that funk U.B. delivered to us in the trunk

Andretti OG, Khalifa Kush all stuffed in one joint

I proved my point when I parked that Rolls Royce, hopped out

Forgot my phone was in my lap, my mothafuckin’ screen cracked

It’s all good, I’ll text your bitch and have her slide through Mac

That Apple Care kicked in, bring me a new phone and an iPad back

Hustlers on the map, in pursuit of the scratch

Never would we relax, money addicts relapsed (Yeah, yeah)

[Chorus: Curren$y]

Two dopeboys in a Cadillac

Stayed real, struck it rich, how can you hate on that?

Two dopeboys in a Cadillac

Weed clouds in the air, diamonds in the back

 

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Plenty bosses, pretty watches

Pull up, they ask what it cost us

Stayin’ cautious, play your posture

Never takin’ any losses

We declinin’ offers

Too much sauce, can’t get it off us

Shout out to Sauce Walka

Foreign cars and old Impalas

Million dollars, million problems

Gotta keep them millions on us

Hate ’em, dodgin’, bake ’em, watch ’em

Money, tryna make it often

Now we fathers, know that God got us

They be tryna foul us

But we never die-ers, gang lifers, rap game survivors

Paid the prices

We make history and made it twice

Off of savin’ Nikes and convincin’ girls to stay the night

That’s our way of life, dropped 2009 to say it twice

Every day’s a flight

You just hatin’, dawg, that ain’t advice

Got my paper right, ain’t just buyin’ everything in sight

Now I’m the savin’ type, so my son is straight for life

Always grindin’, money on the mind, Rollie tellin’ time

You out of line, sayin’ this gang life is not the vibe

 

[Chorus: Curren$y] Two dopeboys in a Cadillac

Stayed real, struck it rich, how can you hate on that?
Two dopeboys in a Cadillac

Weed clouds in the air, diamonds in the back
Two dopeboys in a Cadillac

Stayed real, struck it rich, how can you hate on that?
Two dopeboys in a Cadillac

Weed clouds in the air, diamonds in the back




Benz Boys Lyrics
[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]

Stay papered up, woah

Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)

Stay papered up, woah

Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)

[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Heavy ass Mercedes Benz on top rims

Big chain, pink diamonds, candy ring

Couple million dollars off my own strain

Your life like a video game, Grand Turismo

I’m in that GT-R ’cause I pop the six four

I had the match for the cash

Underground garage where I stash

These niggas still in competition

When I pass, move

2009 no time whenever we come through

No fallin’ for traps, these cappin’ ass bitches livin’ life behind

Snapchat filters
Fuck them, this is us

Still G’d up and way more papered up

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]

Stay papered up, woah
Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Okay, I only care ’bout the money

Can’t no one take it from me

And I’m smilin’ all the time, but nigga, ain’t shit funny

Leavin’ out the Gucci store, nigga, ain’t shit bummy

On the paper chase on your ring, they shit runnin’

Took four years off and the checks kept comin’

All the girls wanna treat me like I’m special or somethin’

We at number one, mean we standin’ next to nothin’

And the shit you rock is fake, but that’s another discussion

I see a lota dudes hate and the shit is disgusting

And I travel all the time, always gettin’ through customs

And my livin’ room new, everything in there custom

And the gang with me, everything I got is because ’em

Fools need better luck, they be wishin’ it was them

Go on tour when I want, 50k for the clubin’

We a bunch of rich niggas and our kids’ll be cousins

And don’t gotta open doors, we just pushin’ the button
That’s on gang, life (Motherfucker)

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]

Stay papered up, woah
Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)

Stay papered up, woah
Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)

[Verse 3: Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa]

Three hundred thousand on your block, stars in the hardtop

Come through it don’t stop, unless it’s bitches out

Money is all I’m ’bout, don’t know how much I got

‘Cause it’s never enough, fill another safe up

They only play tough, they really cream puff

I roll another one, forever highed up

Uh, Off-White kicks


Tryna find a billion dollars ‘fore I find the right bitch


Side kick rolled the weed up


Catch a vibe with a real nigga that’ll check his bags private


Come learn how I live, me and Spitta ’bout to buy the island

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]

Stay papered up, woah
Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)

Stay papered up, woah
Stay papered up, on gang (Oh)




The Life Lyrics
[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Hell, uh

Listenin’ to Cameo, smokin’ on the patio

Polo chinos, a Pro Club

Plottin’ out the next go

Couple weeks in Cali

Smokin’ the best, gettin’ some rest

Then it’s back to the full-court press

Niggas playin’ for keeps

Tryna be the next Suga, Slim, Baby or Master P

I don’t pass that weed, it’s all for me

I rolled it, so I’m only fo’ sho gon’ smoke it

Go and get your own shit

Focused on rollin’ on, wrote for me and all of my dogs

Involved with takin’ Jet Life, Taylor Gang to the stars

I done bought Ferraris from pennin’ these rap bars

And I didn’t stop there, I got so much more

Inspiration, somethin’ you should reach for

See me in that Porsche, that should push you to go hard

I’ve done it, you can do it, ain’t no difference

It’s only real ones in the buildin’

Need to start really livin’, make money every minute

The more things change, the more they stay the same

I stay high, peep game, sound the trumpets

And celebrate with buckets of champagne

Save the sparklers, I got the light show in my ring

And when we exit, they’ll say the best just left, hell

And the rest is just like, yeah

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y]

This is the life, bitches and Nikes

Planes and Chucks, bottles and luxury

And all the bad bitches fuck with me


And those pussy-ass niggas don’t want none of me

This is the life, bitches and Nikes

Planes and Chucks, bottles and luxury

Sports cars in the front yard


Dream big and we live large

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Uh

All the gang rules apply when you fuckin’ with the guys

Brought enough so we all could get high

She with me, don’t be actin’ all surprised

I get more money today than you see for the rest of your life

Tell you once, I don’t gotta tell you twice

All my bitches treat me nice and my crib feel like paradise

Ain’t gon’ have as much fun as she had tonight

And if you got a plus one, everything alright

When it come to girls, I don’t trust none

Khalifa kush, I’ma crush some, we gon’ smoke ’til the sun come up

Ya nigga got a problem with it, hope he don’t run up

I’ma take a shot, that’s enough for both of us (Both of us)

And if you bring a friend, I’ma let her in

Andretti OG, that’s the medicine

I’m tryna get as high as the rent

Niggas comment on the smell, but I take that as a compliment

Don’t fuck with no hatin’ ’cause we don’t do that

We countin’ up paper, no we don’t lose that

Since I leveled up, I never moved back

World of weed, bringin’ all the booze

Don’t stress her ’cause she gon’ choose

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa & Curren$y]

This is the life, bitches and Nikes

Planes and Chucks, bottles and luxury

And all the bad bitches fuck with me


And those pussy-ass niggas don’t want none of me

This is the life, bitches and Nikes

Planes and Chucks, bottles and luxury

Sports cars in the front yard


Dream big and we live large




Find a Way Lyrics
[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]

Uh, long days, gotta recharge to run the play

Paper straight, come up with bars to get us paid

Major weight make it hard for them to imitate

Rolex tell the daytime and the date

If I eat, all my niggas gon’ get a plate

If you hate, guaranteed, you ain’t in the way

Clown shit, we don’t entertain

Always been a young nigga with the vision and I’m still the same

Turned an idea into a strain

Do it once, I fuck with you, I respect you, you do it again

Nothin’ but the best for the fam

I don’t gotta flex for the ‘Gram

Too many rings for my hands, so we stack ’em and stash ’em

We them fuckin’ champs

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ah-ah, uh

You ain’t gotta lie to kick it

You ain’t close to rich enough to be in here

Papered up and stoned at every appearance

Martha’s Vineyard, baby left her diamond necklace behind

At the bed and breakfast, it’s fine

She got that on a high, she’ll steal a better one on the next one

I only fuck with professionals

Sniper scopes and silencers stuck inside of leather sectionals

Watch where you sit at, might hear that click-clack

I copped the BMW six pack, M package

Highway action, state mansion

That’s what G’s do, you smell that fire in the breeze, fool

Don’t you dare call this shit a part two

This a whole ‘nother animal, this that mankind mandible

Chanel drip on your television channel

Car location lit as a birthday candle

[Verse 3: Wiz Khalifa]

Pay me just like a fan do

Real one so they don’t know how much my shit they can handle

Chicks love social media, so I watch out for them scandals

Don’t measure that kush, give you a handful

Gotta grind ’cause my son hungry and the rent due

[Verse 4: Curren$y]

We changed how you smoke, changed how you dress

Your whole life was blessed by the presence of the stoned legends

Ho, retrace our steps and see what you get

If you never let suckers talk you out shootin’ your shot

Hustle with every breath, huh?

[Outro: Wiz Khalifa]

A queen

Ounces of weed

Got your own

If you at my table

A queen

Ounces of weed

Got your own

If you at my table

Yeah, ooh
Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh, ooh-ooh
Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh

 

 




Eastside Lyrics
[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Uh, I’m from the East Side section of your area

I ain’t bullshittin’, corners I be hittin’

Just the morning edition, champagne, orange juice mixin’

Fell asleep in the studio, woke up on a mission

Wall Street wolf, these lil’ niggas shook

When we walked in the room, they ain’t know where to look

That eye contact might result in combat

My hands clean, I don’t know who wrote that contract

Youngsters huntin’, murdin’ for hire, doin’ numbers

Trade your life for a Camaro this summer

Ain’t nothin’ where I come from, but I come up quite different

Spittin’ that zigzag, raw raps, spit shit

Major wrist get you that big bag

All the Ziploc with that motherfuckin’ toe tag

But we the Taylor Gang, Jet Lyfe, us high-flyers never die

It’s 20 inch BMX bikes, stomp pegs, grip pliers

Now me and Pittsburgh Slim is both post drivers

Sit by, talkin’ shit about us, but you need to get like us

‘Cause you know our shit is always tighter

Always flyer, we just 2009-ed you

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Uh, no pain, no gain, I treat ’em the same

If it ain’t my strain, it ain’t in my brain

The boss, the man, nothing in between

Them niggas be gone as soon as they came

My car go fast, wash it in the rain

My chain is cold, diamonds in my rings

I get respect not because of fame

You hate, you lame, I don’t entertain

My shoes, my fit, cost a little change

She was your chick, now she with the gang

Just rolled a zip, now I need a flame

Well known, it don’t gotta be explained

My Benz, or I’m hoppin’ out a plane

Jet Lyfe the gang, all of it the same

New crib, put our logo on everything

Plus worldwide, they know our name

That’s on gang, Lyfe

Jet Taylor, smoke the best flavors




From The Start Lyrics
[Verse 1: Curren$y]

I put the cheat code in

I got the money and the infinite lives, this Vice City bitch

I pray I never have to let it rip

But these the days and the times and you never know who gon’ try

This that pink Polo, Ye flow, give it through the barbwire

At the top of the bag, y’all offensive to slow them motherfuckers

down if they try to get in here

Ate them mushrooms and watched Scarface and now I’m pacing in

my window

Back in my mind I know nobody coming

But then my third eye remind me not everybody love me

Still I slide, twisting it up

Weeding out them Chevy’s, hitting switches, giving it up

Living it bruh

The vision for us was quite clear

When the smoke clears decades later we’ll still be here

I don’t know where them other niggas at

I ain’t looking for no fools

I’m tryna remember where I parked the Benz at

[Chorus: Tommy Girl]

We been on your prey

And we do it everyday

Jet Life, Taylor Gang

And you know what to say

You know who you are from the start

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

From the beginning, niggas always started winning

Gon’ remember me before I’m finished

From a place where it’s hard living

Ain’t no handouts

Now it’s stars in the ceiling

Niggas got options when it come to cars

No more regular hoes

All I’m fucking with is superstars

From the bullshit we moving on

Rolling strong, foreign broad, need the newest car

Ain’t a song unless my dog detonate the bomb

Kush got me right, hope you don’t take it wrong

When I roll it up and light I need more than an eighth

I don’t need nothing from you little homie, I’m straight

Jet Life, Taylor Gang

[Chorus: Tommy Girl]

We been on your prey

And we do it everyday

Jet Life, Taylor Gang

And you know what to say

You know who you are from the start




No Clout Chasin Lyrics
[Intro]

Hah, good one, Rich
Z cooking on the track

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa]

Some of them supposed to go, some of them supposed to stay

I ain’t tryna ruin yours, I’m tryna make a way, yeah

I be at the top, that’s my favorite place

That money gonna come, I don’t gotta chase it

Them bitches gonna come, I don’t gotta chase em

I’ma keep getting love, I don’t gotta chase it

Diamonds in my chain, watch, and my bracelet

Got love for all my dawgs, I don’t gotta chase it

[Verse 1: Curren$y]

They say I smoke too much, I say I don’t smoke enough

You ain’t dealing with what I’m dealing with, bruh

Remembering when the crib I lived in didn’t look like this

The carpet had burn holes, nigga, we was in there smoking

And thinking on how to grab us some mid

Me and my dog was close to going half on a chopper

And like a pound of weed and just lockin’ in and gettin’ it

But then lightening hit

Wasn’t trying to change the world

But we fucked around and did it

Kept all my cars, but I kept trading in woman

Neon lights spell out my company name on the side of the building

It’s going down in my life, baby girl, but I really be chilling

Reminiscing, lost wages, bum deals

I should’ve ran magnifying glasses on them pages and that’s for real,

yeah

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa]

Some of them supposed to go, some of them supposed to stay

I ain’t tryna ruin yours, I’m tryna make a way, yeah

I be at the top, that’s my favorite place

That money gonna come, I don’t gotta chase it

Them bitches gonna come, I don’t gotta chase em

I’ma keep getting love, I don’t gotta chase it

Diamonds in my chain, watch, and my bracelet

Got love for all my dawgs, I don’t gotta chase it

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Give it all back to my son, millions plus one

I don’t do ‘less it’s fun, to focus the funds

I remember taking trips with weed in the trunk

Now police don’t even trip when we rolling up

Legal stunts, got a pound with each our name on it

Setting up the family, that’s the main focus

Game polished, did our best to keep these lames off us

Turned down what the labels offer

Now everything in our name

Influenced the game with our slang

Its all a hundred percent, never changed

All my niggas stay solid as the friend

You broke, won’t never fix you again

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa]

Some of them supposed to go, some of them supposed to stay

I ain’t tryna ruin yours, I’m tryna make a way, yeah

I be at the top, that’s my favorite place

That money gonna come, I don’t gotta chase it

Them bitches gonna come, I don’t gotta chase em

I’ma keep getting love, I don’t gotta chase it

Diamonds in my chain, watch, and my bracelet

Got love for all my dawgs, I don’t gotta chase it




Getting Loose Lyrics
[Intro: Problem]

Yeah, ooh
Van Gogh
Yeah, yeah, shit

[Chorus: Problem]

I’m getting loose, lil’ bitch, getting loose

I don’t wanna know the truth, got stars in my roof, yeah

I’m getting loose, young nigga, getting loose

I ain’t going for the floof, getting head in the booth, yeah

I’m getting loose, lil’ bitch, getting loose

I don’t wanna know the truth, got stars in my roof, yeah

I’m getting loose, young nigga, getting loose

I ain’t going for the floof, getting head in the booth, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, shit, I ain’t going for the floof, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, now way, I ain’t going for the floof, what?

[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Uh, scrapers in the city, Daytons on the 57

Chevy chrome, suspension four switcher

LS engine, bitches came with the interior

Dope pot, stir it up, fumes got her tearing up

’79 Malibu, mash down the avenue

If them niggas really wanna race, bring the bag through

Came through in the space coupe, everything new

Umbrellas in the door, galaxy in the roof

Boss in the booth, sharks after the loot

Be cool, muhfucker, ain’t nobody asked you

Goin’ where the money at, came back with all that

Blabber-mouth bitch gave my niggas the treasure map

We know where it’s at, muhfucker, forget a plaque

For twice what you pay, homeboy, you could get it back

We could call a private plane like a taxi cab

Crib with extended driveway and a heli-pad, bitch

[Chorus: Problem]

I’m getting loose, lil’ bitch, getting loose

I don’t wanna know the truth, got stars in my roof, yeah

I’m getting loose, young nigga, getting loose

I ain’t going for the floof, getting head in the booth, yeah

I’m getting loose, lil’ bitch, getting loose

I don’t wanna know the truth, got stars in my roof, yeah

I’m getting loose, young nigga, getting loose

I ain’t going for the floof, getting head in the booth, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, shit, I ain’t going for the floof, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, now way, I ain’t going for the floof, what?

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Bars in the hook all that it took

We don’t gotta ask questions, we wrote the book

This life way better than it look

You ain’t gonna get to work on foot

Got these other rap niggas shook

10 years, ain’t miss by a hair

You could drop shit in this whip, not a hair

Proceed with care, the set keep trees in the air

No need for VIP passes, my whole team in the clear

VS in all our pieces, try to call our phone, can’t reach us

We probably out the country or rolling weed up, playing FIFA

And my cars is decent, some of ’em older, some recent

Leaving my keys in, this one for today

You gon’ see a new one this weekend, on gang

[Chorus: Problem]

I’m getting loose, lil’ bitch, getting loose
I don’t wanna know the truth, got stars in my roof, yeah

I’m getting loose, young nigga, getting loose
I ain’t going for the floof, getting head in the booth, yeah

I’m getting loose, lil’ bitch, getting loose
I don’t wanna know the truth, got stars in my roof, yeah

I’m getting loose, young nigga, getting loose
I ain’t going for the floof, getting head in the booth, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, shit, I ain’t going for the floof, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, now way, I ain’t going for the floof, what?




Stoned Gentleman Lyrics
[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]

Like my gin neat

Run the game, I suggest that you get floor seats

Might not leave with everything, but we for sure get a piece

Fix it up, put it on the streets

If I ain’t in my 6-4, then my Benz creep

Up and down the street

Run to the money, can’t nothin’ else get me on my feet

We ain’t even gotta watch for police

It’s legal now, they allow us to grow trees

My hotel suite describe the definition of chic

Tryin’ not to ash on the sheets

Got a balcony we won’t see

30 mil’ a year, still tryna be lowkey

And that’s just me, not even to mention my OG

Get money ‘fore we dip, then we proceed

It’s funny how niggas get

We don’t do it ‘less the whole gang benefit

We stoned gentlemen

[Chorus: Curren$y]

Money is the mission, it’s skrilla over bitches

Standin’ in the way, fuck him and whoever with him

Pull up on her and she make a decision to get in

Yeah, your girl hella talkative ’round rich niggas

Room full of hittas and you squares can’t get in

Movin’ through the air, eatin’ shrimp in the Gulf Stream

She in the mirror for hours, hopin’ that she get seen

With us, your girl hella talkative ’round rich niggas

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

Hustle is all I know, spend it and get some more

I’m stayin’ on the go, hopin’ it don’t get slow

I’m on the paper route with my folk

Ain’t part of this game, a joke

Wrap it up like a brick of coke

Call a play like a give-and-go

Ballin’ for real, toss an alley oop off the pick and roll

Rollin’ hundred spokes gold, my Rolex frozen

Have you ever seen a quarter of a million dollars rollin’?

Bein’ drivin’ like it’s stolen, by a stoned stoner

One of the originals who showed you fools how to turn the internet

rhymes into residuals

I put away a whole lot of loot and stayed true, that’s what we do

Make it easy to choose, so guess what?

You wonderin’ why she gettin’ all dressed up

You in the house, messed up, all stressed, for what?

Hustle is the only thing gon’ keep your lights on, fuck love

[Chorus: Curren$y]

Money is the mission, it’s skrilla over bitches

Standin’ in the way, then fuck him and whoever with him

Pull up on her and she make a decision to get in

Yeah, your girl hella talkative ’round rich niggas

Room full of hittas and you squares can’t get in

Movin’ through the air, eatin’ shrimp in the Gulf Stream

She in the mirror for hours, hopin’ that she get seen

With us, your girl hella talkative ’round rich niggas, yeah




First Or Last Lyrics
[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]

Oh

Like when Ricky Bobby’s dad said “You first or you last”

I got all intentions on getting this cash

Rolling joints up with laser precision

I got major decisions to make

Whether to get the Maybach or just chill

My niggas is real in the feel

Blow so much marijuana smoke the smell’s still in the ceiling

Owner said the club closed but we still in the building

Pullin’ foreigns outside and stuffin’ women up in ’em

Got a hundred grand stuffed in these expensive ass denim

Mike hit the the racetrack and spend it, and come back with millions

She half Sicilian, her family don’t even like blacks

I’m ashing my joint, say her dad gon’ kill her

Let me borrow the Lambo and the pad familiar

Got every game on Xbox

Don’t need to get dressed, when I come over it’s sweats and socks

Them other niggas say they like the Taylors, just stop

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa]

Cop a new pad, and smoke one for the life that we never had (Never had)

Cop a new whip, and smoke one for the shit we could never get (Never get)

Cop a new chain, and smoke one for the time we wanted better days (Better days)

Gettin’ dollars makes sense, me and my dog worked hard

So we don’t mind spendin’ just a little bit (Little bit)

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

Actin’ like a nigga that ain’t ever had

Pull up in a foreign with a paper tag

This a Rolls Royce bitch, not a Jag

Keep a closet full of unpopped tags

Niggas bring that bullshit, they get zapped

Never chasin’ bitches, I be gettin’ cash

My roof in the trunk, joint full of skunk

My speakers blast like they from 12 gauge pump

Nigga your crew on the stump, ain’t got a bag in months

Nigga my crew on the hunt, get everything we want

We was wilin’ when we was young ’til the game did jump

Jet Life, all you is a chump, knew we was the ones

To change the game and that’s exactly what we done

New Orleans where I’m from, in Amsterdam catchin’ stunts

New Orleans where I’m from, in Japan rollin’ up

New Orleans where I’m from, motherfucker like what

[Chorus: Wiz Khalifa]

Cop a new pad, and smoke one for the life that we never had (Never had)

Cop a new whip, and smoke one for the shit we could never get (Never get)

Cop a new chain, and smoke one for the time we wanted better days (Better days)

Gettin’ dollars makes sense, me and my dog worked hard

So we don’t mind spendin’ just a little bit (Little bit)




Plot Twist Lyrics
[Verse: Wiz Khalifa]

Uh

Gotta have a plot to get it

This life, it costs a lot to live it

So you gotta watch the competition

Stay on point, make executive decisions

Never switch when the rest of ’em different

That money put us in the best of positions

Always maintain leverage, keep ice in the beverage

Go car shopping ‘stead of clothes

You like it you get it

My closest filled with all types of shit

It’s bad you’d probably work your whole life for this and I’ll get it in one night

Win some lose some, my car ill as they come

And I’m ’bout to build another one soon as I’m done

I’m putting it right on the street

You know what’s going down when Taylor Life (East side)

Jet Gang hook up with Monsta Beatz

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

Audio dope supply the needs

Fiends itching, sniffing for new audio feeds

This how it outta be

More often, too stoned hired up bosses with good intentions to see each other winning

Taking no shorts or losses but I know that we a rarity

Something they’ll never see

‘Til our sons click up and commence to hustling heavily

Sacrifices made, now we sitting in them better seats

And I ain’t even watching the game

I just came to floss this outfit, now I’m on national TV

Sitting court side playing my Nintendo Switch

With a Nike headband fresh from 1996

Kicks sick, collection quarantined

Bed stock, 23’s on some bathing apes I’m sure you haven’t seen

Every verse is like a key

Could turn you to a boss if you don’t know D (OG)

Drunk on power, gold bathroom fixtures and marble showers

2009 ’til the end of time, its all ours

[Outro: Curren$y]

Keep it in

Chevy gon’ switch a nigga, we smoking weed in it

Laughing and our pistols and I wasn’t talking bout it

But nigga didn’t listen, uh

If you need to see it then you come get it

Or you can ask one of your bitches

Is she bad? She probably kick it

Taylor Gang and Jet Living




Bottle Poppers Lyrics
[Intro: Curren$y]

DJ Fresh, DJ Fresh, DJ Fresh

A lot of motherfuckers be in the studio stressed ’cause they lyin’

It’s tough to make up lies, nigga, this our life

East Side on mine

Just like every time
L, L

Interior like white wine

We don’t wear jeans in here

[Chorus: Curren$y]

Slidin’ in my sweats, these was fifteen hundred, you ain’t got fifteen dollars

In the club takin’ pictures with bottles, not even poppin’ ’em

Handin’ ’em back to your big dawgs and now you just watchin’ ’em

This that fly doctrine, me and my Pittsburgh partner, Slim

[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa]

Uh, can’t hang if you don’t swang

My gang do anything, I came to bring the pain

My strain is self-explained, you lame

And can’t get it off of you yet

I toss up the set, bosses only, come correct

Horses in my bet

Porsches growlin’ loud, big money portions

You made it off the porch, I let nature run its course

Play the game hard as a sport, we up and down the court

In the field, shit is real, houses in the hill

Hunded dollar bills fallin’ out the sky, keep the liquor chill

Chrome grills, insides clean, that’s just how we live

Quick to make the paper appear

Got your chick puttin’ up silverware

Keepin’ that weed smoke up in the air

[Chorus: Curren$y]

These sweats was fifteen hundred, you ain’t got fifteen dollars

In the club takin’ pictures with bottles and never poppin’ ’em

Handin’ ’em back to your big dawgs, now you just watchin’ ’em

This that fly doctrine, me and my Pittsburgh partner, Slim

[Verse 2: Curren$y]

And you can tell which car’s mine

Cabriolet and Italian design, interior white wine

I don’t wear jeans in here, I’m slidin’ in my sweats

Slidin’ in my sweats, these was fifteen hundred, you ain’t got fifteen dollars

In the club takin’ pictures with bottles, not even poppin’

Handin’ ’em back to your big dawg, now you just sittin’, watchin’

This that fly doctrine

Take pictures like my Compton uncles, now they think I gang bang
Fool, I just be low ridin’

Everywhere I go, for sure, I bring that East Side in

Always outside ridin’ while them other crews hidin’

Got magenta tinted diamonds, my Rolex whinin’

First class seat reclinin’, whack ass rapper feature declinin’, I am

[Chorus: Curren$y]

These sweats was fifteen hundred, you ain’t got fifteen dollars

In the club takin’ pictures with bottles, not even poppin’ ’em

Handin’ ’em back to your big dawg, now you sittin’, watchin’

This that fly doctrine, Andretti and my Pittsburgh partner, Slim

[Outro: Curren$y]

Yeah, that’s them

They gon’ let us in

Got KK and Andretti in these joints

These motherfuckin’ joints is like

We smokin’ like three hundred dollar joints basically at this point

I don’t know if you ever had a three hundred dollar joint

You hangin’ ’round the wrong folks




Forever Ball Lyrics
[Intro: Curren$y]

Yeah, yeah, yeah

East side all mine, just like every time

(La musica de Harry Fraud)

Ah, ah, ah

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life (Yeah, yeah)
Jet Life, Jet Life, nigga, yeah (Yeah, yeah)

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Jet Life, Jet Life, nigga, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Uh

[Chorus: Curren$y]

If the shit fall, who could I call?

Nobody, fool, all I got is myself, dawg

So I hustle hard, a hunnid stacks in the vault

Just a lil’ bounce back, make sure that we forever ball

If the shit fall, who could I call?

Nobody, fool, all I got is myself, dawg

That’s why I hustle hard, a hunnid stacks in the vault

Just a lil’ bounce back, make sure that we forever ball

[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Yeah, young as our handlebars, totin’ sawed-offs

Just when you thought you’d seen it all

These niggas turn into Transformers when

this green involved

Thinkin’ that’s your nigga, that’s the one who plottin’ to kill you

Street shit, I’m quite familiar, I was raised by dealers

Life stealers, who quite realer than them old niggas

In the background of your pictures, ho nigga

Your daddy was scared of the goons who used to drop me off at school

People ain’t know the kinda shit I was off into

Silent rider, destined for dollars

Musical scholar, pennin’ his own products, straight narcotics

Watch me turn this beat into a foreign with a spoiler on it

[Chorus: Curren$y]

Shit fall, who could I call?

Nobody, fool, all I got is myself, dawg

So I hustle hard, a hunnid stacks in the vault

Just a lil’ bounce back, make sure that we forever ball

If the shit fall, who could I call?

Nobody, fool, all I got is myself, dawg

That’s why I hustle hard, a hunnid stacks in the vault

Just a lil’ bounce back, make sure that we forever ball

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]

Yeah, yeah

Ball forever, pocket full of mozzarella

I remember when the owner didn’t let us

Now we pull our car up where our jet is

All you see is letters, T.G.O.D., we ain’t dyin’ never

We in the sky forever, stay applyin’ pressure

Pack my bags for any weather

Boy, you broke and need to get your shit together

Silence any competition

Got the crib that I dreamed of and not to mention

Bathtub like a swimmin’ pool, smokin’ out and trippin’

Always handle business

Always left hella game on the table for anyone to witness

Trips to Vegas, we don’t need a ticket

Blow presidential smoke and our drinks are expensive

Our wins are extensive

Penthouse, wonderful view, I live how a prince live

But back when we started, wasn’t a way to predict this

Stuck to the script, made our own movie

Got a vid, it’s comin’ real soon, fool, you gotta see it

[Chorus: Curren$y & Wiz Khalifa]

If the shit fall, who could I call? (Yeah, yeah)

Nobody, fool, all I got is myself, dawg (Jets gang, Taylor life)

So I hustle hard, a hunnid stacks in the vault

Just a lil’ bounce back, make sure that we forever ball

If the shit fall, who could I call?

Nobody, fool, all I got is myself, dawg

That’s why I hustle hard, a hunnid stacks in the vault

Just a lil’ bounce back, make sure that we forever ball, yeah

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