(Intro: Curren$y)
Pulled up like FedEx, double-R headrest
Pulled up like FedEx, double-R headrest
Bad bitch sleeping on the Crooks and Castles bed set
Got keys to her pad but I didn't smash yet
More concerned with her cash skills then how her ass is

(Verse 1: Curren$y)
Pulled up like FedEx, double-R headrest
Bad bitch sleeping on the Crooks and Castles bed set
I got keys to her pad, but I haven't smash yet
More concerned with her cash skill than how her ass feel
Money maker, yea baby girl, that's what your ass is
Selling dreams to them suckers, she be making mad chips
She share it with me ‘cause them simps don't compare to me
When she get turned on she look at me like she scared of me
Money in the race, pulled up on the homie Killer Mike at the black owned bank
Dropped a hundred-thousand dollars in the safe
We been eating on the road, bitch, stacking up to-go plates
All a n***a know, living the fast way
Weed burning slow in a Versace ash tray
Gucci butter dishes, Air Max in colorways
That you could never get if you robbed a factory
I got it right now, you could try it out after me

(Chorus: Curren$y)
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lot of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lot of speculation on the
(Verse 2: T.Y.)
Uh, jumped in the game when I boarded the plane
Yea, parked the Wraith just to hop in the Mulsanne
Yea, all these colors in my damn chain
It'll make yo bitch do some real strange things
Straight to the freaky shit, then I delete the bitch
I get stoned on some real Cheech & Chong shit
I know you liked every song but whats your favorite
We can get loaded while I play the shit
Live in color, me and my n***as like no other
Word to my mother, daddy, uncle and lil brother
We ain't gon suffer, ‘causeI'm one grinding motherfucker
Yea, always, n***a we get paid
The cars you see us drive, we whip em like slaves
Day to day, she bring that paper, one of my ways
Fuck bitches get paid

(Verse 3: Fiend)
Roll up when I roll up
Leave the valet a tip plus the roaches
Stoned up in this man but I'm focused
Shades too dark to notice
I represent survivors, soldiers, who had soft white or rocked up cola
Compressed cash in the sofa
I ain't even asked her to come over
Money machine Fiend, couldn't have seen this in my dreams
Twenties, fifties, hundreds with the bling
All this gold is just a lil something to a king
Bullets to a bulletproof truck is but a ding
Small oversight mix up, led to drop offs and pick ups
Penitentiary chances, to glit-up my wrist up
Shit pure, sometimes don’t answer, won't pick up
Bolivian gold, eyes buck and get the hiccups
You could count my chips up
(Chorus: Curren$y)
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lots of speculation on the money I've made
Ounces I've weighed
Audio dope keep us paid
Lots of speculation on the