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 fam to shop or, 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 domepiece 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