Artist: Curren$y f/ Devin the Dude
Album:  Pilot Talk
Song:   Chilled Coughphee
Typed by: snap_locc@yahoo.com

[Devin the Dude]
III'm puffin, I never get enough in
I never cooked coke up on the stove top but i'm stuffin'
these nuts up in the guts of a slut no doubt
but its trapped inside a rubber should I flush that ho out
to use again, well it depends, do I have another one
I cuss for fun, too cool to have to bust a gun
I don't have to duck and run, I could fuck a bum up quick
but thats some tenth grade shit
and its all about chillin', smilin', laughin'
so you know i'm willin', hollerin' and i'm grabbin'
at a freak before I leave, best believe i'm weeded
you rollin' that billy jean, bitch beat it
and you see that we the niggas who smoke the most
people propose a toast, from coast to coast
but it don't really matter who's the highest
if it ain't dope, there's no hope they ain't gone buy it

[Curren$y]
Quarter tank of gas in my 71 double S
Quarter bag, mostly shake, but this will have to do I guess
GPS loaded with the coordinates
of this bitch crib to receive love and nourishment
in the form of joints rolled, drinks poured
her in nothin' but a robe, playin her roll
I saw "The Mac" when I was only 11 years old
and I swore, to never be a simp for a hoe
approached the closed door, it cracked open before my eyes
shorty wit a doobie of her own, I am not surprised
cuz I don't kick it on the low, wit no bitch that don't get high
wrap me a to-go plate and ask if I want her to drive
cuz I got far too much on my mind
industrial size gears, i'm caught in the grind
at yo grandma house 
plastic cover the couch
before I sit down 
she pressurin' me for smellin' like a pound