[Intro: Curren$y]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Hop out that shit in the middle of the street, n***a
East Side
La música de Harry Fraud
Uh, yeah

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
I only play old music in my old car
Counting new money inside my old loft
It was a rental home, I fell in love with the spot
So I bought, throw them ninety inch TV's up on the wall
My homie hooked up the surround sound, and he hid the cords
Did the surveillance, I could keep an eye on all my cars
I went to Rozay crib, this n***a rich
He got whips in garages organized by colors and shit
I was inspired by this, I went back to the grind
For the first time in years, I wrote raps on my flight
Kicked it at my house that night, got crazy high
Thinkin' 'bout how I could expand mine
Put the team on the same page, at the same time
Then split up and close in on the game from all sides
Crushed them muhfuckas, dudes on mushrooms think they can touch us
Without repercussions, this work comes with something

[Chorus: Curren$y]
I only play old music in my old car
Counting new money in my old loft
I only play old music in my old car
Counting new money in my old loft
I only play old music in my old car
Counting new money in my old loft
I only play old music in my old car
Counting new money in my old loft
[Verse 2: Curren$y]
Uh, I played the backseat, last Saturday
In the Rolls reminiscing about how I came up gradually
Over time, I prayed to God for it, but he made me wait
Had to condition my spirit so that it wouldn't break
Now I'm hella straight, estate behind iron gates
Having my cake and eating it too, saying grace
Thankful for the food, chrome Daytons on my '62
Sunroof, the fresh interior, my engine tuned
Sundry driving, though I slide that bitch on Monday's too
Everyday the same to you, once you touch enough loot

[Outro: Curren$y]
I only play old music in my old car
Counting new money in my old—