BBS - The Alchemist, Curren$y

This that gold BBS flow.

Plastic Nike air tags on your original IV’s

Niggas is z’ed on your mans, and i’m rollin an Oh

Leave em sleep, I don’t need them suckas listening to me

Pack a bong for everything except the kitchen sink

Underneath witch I keep a set of Andy’s Clippers

I could fix my line in before we go over by them bitches

A quick little something can’t get the back

I don’t know where I left my hand mirror, type of dilemmas will never hinder my

jet living

We just chilling so don’t come around here, fake toughin'

Runnin' after woman

Bossed up, all us, outside the club waiting to tip drivers who pull our cars up.

The fuck you thought this was dawg, imma trill mother fucker after all.

Haters is dressed in safety nets encouraging my fall

Won’t catch me there, but you can catch me on air when my new shit premier

At whatever media outlet decide to play it fair

Fuck playin' dead pimpin' imma play the bear, grizzle

Seriously fish burn turn flip styles, furiously, this that 70's soul green

Alchemistry, amen been a G since but he leaves lames big cuffin their jeans and

their bitches I be cookin these bird assholes, running circles around em,

they rotisserie chickens

Love got a shovel in her hand I see you digging strike gold build your own

coffin with it, dead ass, flick ashes on the girls in my past tense

They tell us for the ones I was just fuckin

The crib for the one I was gonna get right back with

It’s easy to get tangled in the stars, spangled, mangled in the night life,

livin out my bars, dangerous.