Accurate

[Intro: Curren$y] Yeah (Chevys on switches) Yeah (We smokin' weed in it, don't post me in your pictures) (La-da-da, la-da-da, la-da-da, la-da-da) [Verse 1: Curren$y] All my cars low to the ground, millions of dollars without makin' a sound On the couch, next to the pound, just rolled seventeen jernts out Eastsider with homies from Hollygrove I said, "Good lookin' out", had the convertible for a year now I just took it out, seen what the fuss about Then brung it right back to my house, I'm on the porch now Neighbors walkin' up, talkin' 'bout sports now I sent my Rolls Royce to the courthouse They tried to throw the book at the doggy, he shook it off him Take him and the family shoppin', poolside, talkin' to my delivery guy Just picked up a ride, estimated arrival time Sometime late tomorrow night, gravy over rice Baked chicken, leave the skin on Lemonade with some ice, TV got my favorite shit on This is the life, as I know it Long as I don't blow it, sole controller with the frozen Rollie [Verse 2: Rome Streetz] Ayo, ayo, ayo My style is gunpowder and poison in a glass vial Pain and passion from the pen and paper of this black child Yeah I came up from incarcerated to cash cow Had a krill clientele before I put a rap out Knew that I'd be a king in this shit, I never had doubts You learn less tryna skip steps, takin' the fast route You hypnotized by hoes on Instagram with they ass out You lost the lust and got found stuck, she laid your ass down Niggas claimin' that they the ruler, we aim and blast crowns Off they dome piece for fuckin' with Spitta and Rome Streetz My bankroll gettin' bigger, future seven-figure nigga Ridin', bumpin' some Jigga, got a zip in my Snow Beach On my shit, reach my goals, all of my foes below me When the crook was in bookings, never ate the bologna It's Wagyu steaks, asparagus and a bag of piff Lavish shit, gold Gucci links with the Lazarus It's a marathon, you think you neck-and-neck? I lapped your shit Made it out the mud to luxury, look how I mastered it Accurate; it's only a few niggas that can actually spit All these other dudes is mess hall food, I'm trashin' it Cruise in faster whips with the stash equipped, fly fashion drip Your song ever come on, we're skippin' past your shit [Outro: Rome Streetz] Fuck outta here