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Weekend At Burnies


Artist: Curren$y
Genres: Hip-Hop
Total songs: 9
Year: 2011

Get Paid Lyrics - Weekend At Burnies - Curren$y

Yeah, Jet life 

Jet set nothing less 

 

I'm talking oceans in the back, front reserved for Porsches 

Highed up focused on my fortunes 

A real G I'm tryna ball, I want it all fuck a portion 

Money in my pocket, more stacks than a fortress 

Up early every day I'm trying to flip I need more of it 

Gotta get it now will I see tomorrow I ain't sure of it 

Overdue it's 'bout that time I deserve a lick 

I'm trying to see something slick I really came from nothing though 

Still I stand tall pockets thick, fitted sitting low 

Twisting with my chick out the manor in front it gettin' gold 

She ain't a gold digger but love how daddy get this dough 

Real nigga hear it in my words plus my actions show 

Nothing less I'm a Jet so I'm sending threats 

To these suckers hating on my name cause I'm next 

Protected by the planes, JLR family crest 

Mama fall back from them lames and fly with the best 

 

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Yeah, get paid, my nigga get paid 

 

Never under estimate the other guys greed 

Game given from a snake indeed, I still take heat 

Keep the force what you stuck adhesive 

Fuck with the real niggas see how we do it 

Baby girl them your people 

Well lose them dudes your home girl and them cool 

We makin' moves like when throwback rap albums had interludes 

We used to chill at the crib waiting for homie 

To bring them instrumentals through 

Mixtape rap your way to a million dollars I did it partner 

Too much of a scholar to ever live in squalor 

Scissors beats paper unless we talking 'bout them paper dollars 

I'm in there like I live there 

What took you so long baby girl I been here, tryna leave your man 

He a square huh, I don't even know if it's fair ma 

Fuck it though you living in the same world I'm in, dirty but that money make it spin 

 

Photos 

 

I hustle hard 'til I'm dead or locked behind bars 

I'm a Jet member way about a different set of laws 

Roddy trap hard ain't no time for fucking off 

It's a scary game but am I scared not at all 

I'm hoping that this high don't ever come down and fall 

Cause them days with no weed way tougher than them all 

Still spitting these trill bars free of charge 

And them niggas don't give a fuck, they cold hearted 

That's cold blooded especially in New Orleans 

Just trying to make it out this maze that I been lost in 

I rep my set from the stage to the coffin 

School of hard knock I learned to read between the margins 

But real shit so many problems I deal with 

And I thank God for Mary Jane, that good piff 

Bet I won't quit stacking my bread flipping my chips 

I double count my paper then I dip, Jets fool, I bet I do 

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