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The Beach
Curren$y feat. Jim Jones
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
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Translation
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The margin is wide
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Hood rich and wealthy
La-da-da, la-da, la-da, la-da
Still stoned, still on
Said I don't fuck with suckers back then
And I still don't, still stoned, still on
La-da-da
You more concerned with them hoes than yourself
That's detrimental to your mental health
The margin is wide between hood rich and wealthy
Separate it, bro, step up your paper
I heard you stressed out, you been missin' payments
They talkin' 'bout you bad on them gossip pages
Same ones who celebrated sell you out later
Sell you down the road for coins that was only silver and gold-plated
That shit wasn't real, but the consequences really is
Somethin' you can feel, shit producin' tears
Wasted years, wasted gain in the ears of a lame
Start applyin' 'stead of cryin' and whinin'
'Bout who else shinin' and how you ain't got it
I don't come to pity partners, I'm out there gettin' it, shorty
They opened that shit up for me
Said I was sorry for the Wraith, but not for my Ferrari
Slidin' through the lobby, all my chains on
My ex-bitch saw me, started talkin'
My current lady walked up on me
Introduce 'em to each other, neither one was salty
Matter fact, they was sweet on each other
We laid up in the crib on the beach for the summer
Laid up in the crib on the beach for the summer
Yeah, yeah, yeah, nigga
Still stoned, still on
Said I don't fuck with fake bitches back then and I still don't
La-da-da, la-da, la-da, la-da
Capo
Goin' back and forth with these bars like a predicate
All this water on, I can't tell you how wet she get
They gonna dry your mother eyes if they come through wettin' shit
I'll tell you the whole story, but you niggas know the rest of it
The back of the 'Bach, they got seats like a Craftmatic
Runnin' through these dirty streets where they blast 'matics
He got hit up in his car, he tryna breathe like an asthmatic
I was always ready for the beef when it had static
Now give me room, the car is big like a yacht, bitch
I don't smoke cigs, but there's a cig in the drop
And watch for your safety because this trigger don't lock
The first nigga that move, that's the first nigga gettin' shot
Said I was sorry for the Wraith, but not for my Ferrari
Slidin' through the lobby, all my chains on
My ex-bitch saw me, started talkin'
My current lady walked up on me
Introduce 'em to each other, neither one was salty
Matter fact, they was sweet on each other
We laid up in the crib on the beach for the summer
Laid up in the crib on the beach for the summer
Yeah, yeah, yeah, nigga
Still stoned, still on
Said I don't fuck with fake bitches back then and I still don't
La-da-da, la-da, la-da, la-da
Do I know you?
I don't think so
No? Then why you smiling?
Why are you smiling?
I don't know
I know who you are, el americano
You're young, this is not my fiancรฉe, Anita
Really?
Yeah, Augusto would like to see you immediately
What?
Augusto would like to see you
ย