Sir Michael Rocks - Luxury Sport lyrics

[Verse 1: Curren$y] Enough n***as talk sh**, Jet n***as talk rich Buy another crib, park another drop-top in front of that b**h f** a b**h, any b**h, who you want? Take your pick But you gonn' have to take your time, baby trying to take ya sh** Fool, take advice from your n***a An OG been-through-it veteran in a 'vette Chevy man racing slicks, Andretti got your girlfriend track side taking flicks Champagne rain on the winner's circle: this is it Yeah man, you would think we was slanging 'caine out this thang The only thing dope is the rhymes Quotes be as strong as coke lines, man No seat on the jet, that's a crying shame Fool, I could show the ropes to a blind man Straight triple-O like a thousand Don't talk down on Jets round my dogs Them n***as ain't peaceful as me, not at all Saw me through the struggle, they love seein' me ball You try to stop the rise, they'll cause you to fall Mind playing tricks on me Geto Boys while my rich girl twist for me Elbows on that Cadillac Biarritz, homie Double-parked, got my girl pulling tickets for me No charge like my cell phone quit on me Flight Club, sugar mamas they be trickin' on me Sosa say, "Listen, Tony, don't ever try to f** 'em" You see how they done him, couldn't outrun 'em Even though security cameras saw it comin' Might flirt with a girl but I'm married to the money Yellow gold wedding band: I'm a proud husband Runnin'... [Verse 2: Sir Michael Rocks] My D-O-Gs the G-O-Ds We know the evil that ego brings I'm sitting at the round table, at a C-note feast And if you ain't a live n***a, then you won't eat I don't see your piece, your name ain't on no list You ain't sign that lease so man Your name ain't on no whip Gold chain swangin', your lady be hangin' on my dick Plain n***as be blaming me, I blame it on the convo I don't know, got some Van Goghs in the condo She in the streets like pot-holes in Chicago The only time she seem interest is a car note Cause gold-diggers pay attention when you got dough They say that Tommy Hilfiger don't like n***as I know some n***as I don't like, so I'm right wit' ya It's Mister... Pose-for-the-Picture My weed smell good like a rose in the swisha We at the Ralph Lauren grill for lunch Jump out the 'vette with the functions Gla** bowls filled with punch We peelin' bills out the wallet Take a pill and if you're partying The gaudiest, I step out the crib and get an audience Round of applause for a n***a that ball Let's give a hand to a powerful man A hand clap to the n***a with racks But we ain't giving 'em back Stay off the phone like you sending a fax You gettin' slapped off the gentleman, Jack We livin' live: Calvin Klein designed the inside of my ride And a Jeep with the brush guard, special deluxe cars n***as all stepped on so hard