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Curren$y

Shante Scott Franklin (born April 4, 1981), better known by his stage name Currensy (often stylized as Curren$y), is an American rapper. Born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, he was signed to hip hop labels such as No Limit, Cash Money and Young Money, before he founded his own label Jet Life Recordings, in 2011. more »

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Servin', servin'
Servin', servin', swervin', yeah
Servin' sermons, swervin' corners, collectin' my tithes (just like that time)
Servin' sermons, swervin' corners, collectin' my tithes
Damn, yeah
Skrrt, skrrt, swerve to the sides
We gon' get the whole half, yeah, damn
Got 'em sleepin' outside
Starin' and online
Uh

Andretti back over the stove
Cookin' utensils is all solid gold
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, scrape the sides
I'ma get the whole world high
Bangin' that Drop Top Wop in my ride
Servin' sermons, swervin' corners, collectin' my tithes
For the fly, them other niggas livin', they ain't really live
They jams and jive, tappin' raps in they iPhone
Have a storage full of lies while I glide
Glaciers of ice, shootin' craps with diamond dice
Nigga, we playin' for your life
Shrimps want beef so we lay it over rice
It's worth twelve percent of my adjusted gross
But it help me sleep at night
Keep them cameras off, build them motherfuckin' fences high
My hippie girl seen 'em comin' with her third eye
All of your dope slangin', them whole pies
Watchin' them birds hit the sky
Cameras flash, you gon' know when we arrive
We really them guys, all of us is high
Read all our names in the headlines, damn

Uh-huh
Jay Elec back over the stove
I left home on Greyhound and came back with Hov
Project niggas, we worldwide now, like Mr. Marcelo
New Orleans, where we still makin' Heaven out of the ghetto
It's been a long time since we seen you under the bridge, Jay
Well, is the motto still, "You get it how you live," yeah?
Say less, I used to wear Buster Browns out of Payless
Then graduate the 8-Ball jackets, comin' out D-To
I spit it for Mookie, Juv, World, Earl, and Cito
The law we lay in the street, even Sleepy Joe couldn't be told
No harm, no technical foul, no unheavenly free throw
From Tchoupitoulas to Napoleon, and a desire (?)
Me and Spitta spit a flame of magic that's uncontested
Jet life, five nations, we can see the planes, it's so majestic
What's poppin' NOLA like Britney
I be at Poor Boys on St. Bernard
You got a bone to pick with me? Come and get me
But in the mean time, pop that pussy for a real nigga
I used to rock the Popeye ashtray and the mouth with the Hilfiger
I'm out that wild Magnolia where niggas'll deal with ya

Keep it G in it, yeah
Keep it G in it-
Smokin' weed in it

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