Young Roddy - Music To Ride To lyrics

[Intro: Curren$y] Them other n***as try to do it ain't sounding like I (Verde Terrace) Let me drag two more chairs out here with me n***as try to do it ain't sounding like I [Verse 1: Curren$y] Dressed like I got somewhere to go But I'm just smokin' my trees, prolly sweep the patio Thumb through a few magazines; Complex, Robb Report Surf the internet, reserve some time at a Dubai resort I'm on the grind, fool, I ain't a child no mo' But I play the f** outta thirsty ho It ain't a game, it's the planes, brushing off my clothes But ain't nothing on my back 'cept my wings, pardon me bro As I make my way to the change, carve my place out in history Get rich and stay the same, enclave Palm tree shade, have kid Happily raised, George Burning through my old age [Hook: Curren$y] Yeah, mind on my money, money on my mind I'm double time on my hustle and all your b**hes mine It's that riding smoking music for you to smoke and ride to Other n***as try to do it ain't sounding like I Mind on my money, money on my mind I'm double time on my hustle and on your b**hes mind It's that riding smoking music for you to smoke and ride to Other n***as try to do it ain't sounding like I [Verse 2: Young Roddy] Ain't nobody f**in' with my team, man I put that sh** on g's She love me when I met her, cussin' at me when I leave sh**, she acting like those bills mad cheap Girl, it cost to be the boss around this piece, can I breathe? Cuz all I do is grind, write rhymes and smoke weed You know, burn down a tree Tire marks as I burn down the street, take heed When that money speak ain't life for free, but pretty as can be From low cla** to living comfortably All from being a beast on these beats Smoking that loud pack as I creep, them plane-haters ain't talkin' 'bout sh** Them lame n***as ain't nothing like me Trying to get a bite to eat, a plate for free, n***a please I know cats who been grinding all week. Why sleep when that money on yo street? I was taught to get cheddar in a hurry You play checkers and get your a** buried, boy [Hook] [Verse 3: Trademark Da Skydiver] Same old sh**, just a different day New weed I'm twisting up, I break it down and lift me up, Jet Life n***a what? I'm high as f** in the cut Just chillin', count this paper up You know the life of a villain, sport cars and women Popping them polo collars, partner, all well denims Over them Guccis no stunt thats how a n***a living, on g's b**h please, my paper peeling Look I'm addicted to this sh** and I can't fight the feeling Still tryna to stack my dollars up from the floor to ceiling n***as hating on us, we ain't tripping off your feelings 365, 24/7, we making a k**ing spittin' the sh** that we living [Hook]