180 Days Songtext
von Curren$y & Harry Fraud

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(La música de Harry Fraud)
La-da-da-da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da
Keep the E in it, Chevy′s on switches, baby
We smoking weed in it, don't post me in your pictures
If you can keep a secret, we could always kick it


This what they fucking with me for in the first place
Documenting my rise, representing my birth place
My homeboys buy me muscle cars on my birthday
My homeboys steamroll probably before I know that they in the way
My bitch in the tub, she got your bitch feeding her grapes
I′m watching Carlito's Way
Your friend since the fourth grade got you on tape
Caught up, they threaten to throw him behind the gates if he didn't cooperate
He handed you over that day on a silver plate to escape
Total disgrace, we don′t do things that way
I ordered a Wraith, it′s handmade, it take 180 days
You want it to happen overnight, you having a bad dream
When you wake up, my team beat and fled the scene with all the cream
That's right, British racing green on my latest foreign machine
Seat color look real close to tangerine peels
Soulja told you what happen to fakes in the field
I pour out a whole bottle for my partner, he that real
East Side at all times still
Chevrolet on three wheels at the red light standing still
Reputation on stainless steel


′58 Continental dogg
Digital dashboard, no analog
Turn the corner, raise the front
My music is hella loud, so is this blunt
Unadulterated, funk baby
Four fifteens up in the trunk, baby
What a day, I play to play
'Bout to scoop up my brand new Chevrolet
And it′s a donk ride, Duval gave it to me
It's on some Florida shit, you know the flavor homie
It′s stitched by Slick so it's sick as fuck
Police behind me, they on my nuts
But they'll never catch a G like me
I do the right thing bitch, like I was Spike Lee
And I might be in a IROC or a 5 point 0
Or Cadillac for sure, laying real low
Moon roof open with the fin tails
Inhale, exhale, chem trails
Me and Spitta, that′s some real shit
Crip′d up and whipped up, hand on the killswitch

Say, you better know it man
From the NO to the LBC
It's what we do man
We get to it like we do it
Always on that fluid
Spitta, Snoop Dogg
Y′all know what time it is
We gon' ride out to this shit, so gangsta
Yeah, we′re in a caravan right now, 'bout 55 cars
Cadillacs, Chevrolets, Monte Carlos, IROCs, 5.0s, Falcons, Cougars, Mustangs
I mean, I mean
Hahahaha
That nigga in that Cutlass, that shit cold
That shit′s slick
Okay, 50 something Belair huh
I can dig it
Mmm