Roasted Lyrics - Pilot Talk - Curren$y

It's been a minute let me get with it, as I roll up 

Niggas been waiting on trade like whats the hold up 

My only mission in life was to blow up 

They ask what I throw up, you know what I rep and I'm one of the best 

Supervillian in the building I'm clearly a threat 

Been doing this here for a minute considered a vet 

A lot of niggas want me to fail cause they know that I'm next 

That's damn near impossible this game ain't got rid of me yet 

I fell of and I crawled and regaining my steps 

This time around I'mma give all till im gaspin for breath 

I stay silent on a lotta shit quiet is kept 

But I dont know too many niggas with silent success 

So I write it all down to get it off my chest 

The weed we break it all down to get off the stress 

Niggas hate, fuck 'em, cause they know that we the best 

It ain't my fault I do this shit breakin a sweat 

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I'm just laid back chilling posted, living like a villian mostly 

High off this purple shit, no lie I'm flyin I'm so roasted 

Money, bitches, Testarossas, Veuve-Clicquot, few mimosas 

Bring them thru my ups and downs life is like a roller coaster 

The more I smoke the smaller the doobie get 

They takin shots at the jets on some John Woo movie shit 

All blanks I'm unscaved untouched on my way to the bank, what the fuck? 

For tryna play Spitta you shall forever remain 

Without a name, lames know what I claim 

Upset they all throw up my set from the sunroof of my car 

Seats butter baguettes 

Bitches cumbling nuggets I'm feeling lovely and blessed 

Tribeca at Bubby's I'm enjoying a lemon press not that Minute Maid crap 

They squeeze these lemons they selves 

The hearts of women melt when Trilla lyrics are felt 

Olympic swimming in bitches Micheal slash leon phelps 

High bread weed money tree slang for dummies 

Get it crackin like lobsters ice vodka and the bong's bubblin' 

Photos 

I'm just laid back chilling posted, living like a villian mostly 

High off this purple shit, no lie I'm flyin I'm so roasted 

Money, bitches, Testarossas, Veuve-Clicquot, few mimosas 

Bring them thru my ups and downs life is like a roller coaster 

Me with a record deal yea they said I couldn't get it 

My homie Ferris told me you couldn't hustle for a living but 

That Richard Porter money had a nigga driven 

And word to my nigga Stan I was bugging for a minute but 

Look how the tables turned, they still spinning 

The homie flew me from Kenner to N-Y city yea 

My uncle told me let the sky be your limit 

I was cool with a kid in the kitchen who was a chemist yea 

And far as bread, mama told me make plenty 

So it's money in my bank account and money in my denims yea 

In high school them girls used to blow me kisses 

But it's money over bitches, Roddy all about his Benjies 

Shout out to Spitta, they wear us out like Fendi 

Let's hit the Chi where the weather much windy but 

But me I'm from the dirty, the dingy, the south 

Where everywhere we at we smoke it out 

I'm just laid back chilling posted, living like a villian mostly 

High off this purple shit, no lie I'm flyin I'm so roasted 

Money, bitches, Testarossas, Veuve-Clicquot, few mimosas 

Bring them thru my ups and downs life is like a roller coaster