Songtext No yeast Curren$y

No yeast

It's the mafia
Blockworks
227
Creature gang
Let's get it

Acquired taste for the finer things, the finer cuisine
While others do it online for the streams
Posting comments and memes
Love the sound when that money counter cha-ching
It's Concrete, you know the drama we bring
Me and Con the Machine embody the Mafia theme
What else? Now my Damiere Lou' Vuitton and Supreme
Are you in Detroit, Motor City?
I run DMC, these niggas better get down with the kings
Six mile runs from Sconey Island to Queens
They got me back on my Quran, on my knee
A hundred pints of the clean
Pour up a three, remix the Sprite with codeine
Love how the light hit off the ice when it gleam
Before the shines and the bling
Was '96 Dame, Shawn, and Kareem
Shot Johnny around the corner from my Auntie Willene
Ladder in my double nine-
M, Glock with the beam
He had 'em thinking he was him, but shit is not what it seems
It's Concrete, who you know more streeter than me?
With no yeast, so street, a nigga everything he seeming to be
Read 'em and weep, we open shop, and OT on a spree
It's Concreature Boldy Blocks, the king of the D
How she in love, still sleeping with me?
Two hundred fives, twenty fifties, ten hundreds, I was keeping it G
Now, who you know more streeter than me?
With no yeast, so street, a nigga everything he seeming to be

Uh, that Gucci North Face intersecting like a figure eight
Homies in competition, bro, I ain't know that this was a race
I thought that we was in it for the cake
That's that gold trimming on these plates, these ain't microwave safe
Baby, conventional oven, still cook up the old way
Pen and pad my logo and the barcode is on my weed bag
Packaging affect the prices
Plus they calling anything zaza, that bullshit hype
And I'm an OG, bro, I smoke that chronic
I pull up something iconic
Born finer, sipping wine in Napa Valley when I found it
Hellbent on driving and heaven sent me to buy it
I keep money piling up and feeding all of my desires
She drowning in the fountain of flyness, I am the real
He tried to hide that bitch in him, it came out, gender reveal
Great white verse the seal
Tim Hardaway air ain't like this, boy, I got them skills
That crossover could kill
Called out my lane and chilled
I make it to spend it like I was billing rims
I'm from New Orleans where we all love Soulja Slim
My nigga Boldy just flew in from the Detroit lion's den
Sharp as ninja stars in these flying cars, me and him
Pieces on the wall cost a leg or arm, lose a limb
If you ain't bought no Rolex for your dogs, you ain't a boss at all
We on a jet, finna take off
We watching Charles and Charles
Collaboration like that Bape with KAWS
I'm rolling up them RAWs

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, we keep the E in it, Chevys on switches
Nigga, we smoking weed in it, don't post me in your pictures
We had the c— we had the cold air going?
Shit just wasn't doing shit
I don't know
I don't hear it in the headphones, bro
[?][3:20]
I was never gon' hear that shit
You hear it?
Yup, I don't hear the beat, but I hear, I hear us
What all y'all got from the—
Should I have looked at that? Should I have made a play first?
What, you wanna eat first? It's gonna get cold otherwise
Yeah, put— put— just put it back on on the speaker, let me see what's happening
Yeah
Let me see what's happening over there, man
Why not? Why not?