[Intro: Curren$y]
This is revenge
Like when them Russians caught Alonzo at the red light
No bullets, just pens
No machine guns, just machine lipped rims
Yeah, I let my fitted sit high
Cause I am really on my... grind, fool

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
And as the game rotate, and my name grows bigger
How many bitches want, not many bitches won't
I know you think your bitches don't but I know
What she did last summer, scream for me when I touched her
Chevy man, though lately had my eyes on the Cutlass
Fitna say fuck it, call Mousa, tell him cop it, give it to my brother
Sticky trees I sit under, tryna stay cool
Big city lights hotter than a mothafucka
Tuesday I'm SoCal, Wednesday it's Calcutta
Socks up, stock rising, Kief Catcher Spitta grinding
Higher than my fitted riding
And if I showed you where I live, you would think that I was hiding
Can't call it a neighborhood, I ain't living by nobody
Applying for statehood, make my footprint in geography
Spreading my monopoly, and plus nobody I know got killed
In New Orleans today, I got cash put away and some more on the way, yeah
[Chorus: Curren$y]
Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front
This the life we want n***a you only live it once
Uh, I let my fitted sit high cause I am really on my..grind
Yeah, I let my fitted sit high cause I am really on my..grind

[Verse 2: Dom Kennedy]
Uh, player shit, you n***as still cuffin
If I wanted her back, n***a I'd be still fuckin
Yeah, and I see n***as tryna rap like us
Watch the video, then try to act like us
I know we make this shit look easy
Do a show out in Brooklyn, when I just left the Easy
With my n***a Spit-Spitta, girls tryna get us
Tell her I be comin back, you best be doin all them sit ups
Don't take me to the airport cryin girl, get up
She don't want me to leave when I'm wit her
I tell her I'm the n***a that she need, not a needy ass n***a
The game don't get any realer
I just want the red outside, black stripes like Thriller
I'm in Miami bumpin Trilla
I got dope on the low, but im not a dope dealer
The feds blockin like the Steelers
I let my fitted sit high, cause I am really on my grind
Katt Williams flow, bitch this pimpin all the time
You singin ass rap n***as simpin all the time
Fuckin up the game, n***as fuckin up my name
You don't want no money, just fame
They ask me how I'm doin, shit I really can't complain
Sippin champagne, and tryin to get everything I want
Yellin oceans in the back, Porsches in the front
[Chorus: Dom Kennedy]
Uh, uh, I'm yellin
Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front
Yeah, Yeah
Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front
Oceans in the back, Porsches in the front
Oceans in the back, Porsches in the... uh