Payroll (Bonus) lyrics

by

Fiend


[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Do this sh*t, done that sh*t
Get in the zone, my homies tell me, run that sh*t
Buy them Porsches to practice doing donuts in
Catwalk model top b*tches we run up in
f*ck 'em, haters saying they don't f*ck with him
Spitta keep it all the way one hundred
Highed up to most, they rank under him
Smoking on something thunderous
Marijuana designer, expensive ganja, b*tch
You in the month of this
I've already picked your gown out, mama
You gon' look stunning, b*tch
Try to feel A1 with this
Cinderella nervous, thinking this gon' turn into a pumpkin, chill
Long as you ain't rid all of that fronting, we can bail
Word to my white walls
Keep food in them dog bowls every night
It's a fool, it's a war zone, scary sight
But it's cool, it's what I call home, jet life
In that six where I just rolled past the satellite
Dressed to kill, hoping that I don't die
Word to Mary, I just bury my problems inside
Until they too heavy to carry, then I write these rhymes
Chess some game, if I feel that you worth the time
If you lame, I just direct you to them exit signs
Go back to where you came, squares too scared to get paid with the players
They watch from the sideline, they never out there
We in it, oh yeah, all conditions gear
ACGs, the G is what you see here
[Chorus: Trademark Da Skydiver]
Oh mane, you know how the game go
Counting up this payroll, smoking all the dank, ho
Just rolled up another one, stay high and lay low
We be on that other sh*t, figure y'all the same old, ayo

[Verse 2: Trademark Da Skydiver]
I'm business-minded individual
Eating good off rap, I snack on rats and live off my residuals
Cooley in the cut, counting blessings and feeling spiritual
Get money and chill every day, it's like a ritual
Habitual smoker, I stay high off that medicinal kush
Cruising through the city, Locing, feeling invincible
And the new machine so clean, I'm invisible
Behind these dark tints, my n*gga, picture that visual
Picture me pulling up to a condo with a river view
You lames still hating, mane, but we ain't hearing you
Here to do what we do, get this money, share with a few
n*gga been grinding since Timbaland and Magoo was crew
Ain't nothing changed but my change, lil homie, my gear is new
It's cool, rappers are mad cause the game ain't feeling you
Just step to the sidelines, then shift to me and my crew
Bad b*tches and sticky, it's your game, she's rolling with me
I'm cruising through the city, smoking fifties, we puff like Diddy
Really this how I'm living, they lying, they just look silly
Still trying to touch a milly before I'm buried in Gentilly
I was born to ball, real n*ggas and b*tches feel me
I swear, they gon' have to kill me before I stop making it happen
Staying true to my faction, spending Jacksons off rapping
I'm saving up all the fragments, running out of places to stack 'em
Tre's still 'bout that action for n*ggas who want to asking, what the f*ck
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