Sail On lyrics

[Verse 1: Young Chris]
(Yeah)
(Uh huh)
(Uh huh)
Gunna!

[Verse 1: Young Chris]
sh*t was all good while it lasted, but I can't keep on sailing
As long as the fiends keep on itchin', n*gga, the grams keep on sellin` (That's right!)
Bottom of the roost, from the heart of North Philly
To the top of Hollywood, model b*tches, Cali-good
I got something that they need, that they want, I'm the supplier, shorty
Low numbers on them pretty b*tches and it's FIRE!
Ghetto be my prior, I be the one that they admire
Home of the flier, I gotta, big homie retired, it's a wrap
I got it from here, yes I solemnly swear
This is a global introduction, a hottest premiere
Been the fuzziest year, staring out of my rear
f*ck the pus*y police, we got shotties to air
'Nother dead body appear, paid a pussies a visit
Never mind being tense, never f*ck a statistic
'Nother disappearance, and nobody know why he did it
Its just the code of this sh*t, and we live it, Curren$y kick it
(Uh kick it)

[Verse 2: Curren$y]
Yeah!
One of the masters of the drug flow
Anti-club dress code, I just ignore those
Narnia lions, different dimensions in my wardrobe
Thinking' on the outside of the box, like a barcode
Like a seven-foot center, Spitta don't gotta cross over
I just stay in the lane, show off dunks and hang
From my goals obtained, planes boarded
Though I was already soarin', you smell it in my clothes
Mixed with cologne by Ralph Lauren, Spitta missin'
You lookin' for him? Take a number, n*gga never home
Gotta call me on the yacht, floatin' out, bottles pop
Before I left the dock, who is that?
In the Vinny Jack bumpin' Super Cat, X-J-12
Soft top, retractable shell, park it near the boat launch in Paris
Spending french bread, n*gga, croissants
I got a flow that you can sail on, yeauh!
[Hook: Commodores & Curren$y]
Sail on!
Sugar (Yea, yep)
(They look up to the Jets, n*gga, now where haven't we...?)
Good times never felt so good (Wondering if they—)
Sail on
Sugar!(Crookin' their necks and they lookin' up to the Jets)
Good times never felt so good (From the mansion to the yacht deck)

[Verse 3: Curren$y]
(Uh)
Spitta is chillin', jeans, paper, denim
Milk and Oreos with the double-stuffed filling
On the internet, ordering another engine
For the lavender Chevy with the suede grey innards
Seen n*ggas go insane trying to get it
The thought process of a first place winner
Jets, n*gga, we Enter the Dragon, got Bruce Lee in the Goyard
My lethal kicks cause damage
Vacay, puff sour diesel in the hammy
They hated on it, said that it could never happen
I waited on em as my plan was bein mastered
Have patience, 'cause the best is the last laughin'
Slashing, dashing, through my defenders, no look passin'
b*tches in the rapture love my rappin' with a passion
And I'm New Orleans flyest
Do rewind this, the Jets get the highest
(Uh)
[Chorus: Commodores sample]
Sail on!
Sugar
Good times never felt so good
Sail on!
Sugar
Good times never felt so good