The Warehouse Songtext
von Curren$y & Harry Fraud

Bring some warmth to the music
(La Música de Harry Fraud)

Everybody wanna be fast, see the cash
Fuck around with the stash, get a heat rash
Everything in jet life, the way we smash
Double paying class, call phone in the S-class
Fundamental balling like a chess pass
Lay a drill, I′m a player for real
I'll display my skills and give your bitches the chills

Button on the wheels, letters in the grill
Let her see the letters, she′s wondering how I feel
Look at your ass in the seat, you're mashing with me
Parked up, sparked up, where the niggas came to be
There can never be access for the weak
Gang sour, overpower if you sweet
My team is in the finals and we going for the sweet
Tape CDs, vinyls, MP-3s
Loaded USBs, crack vials in the streets


I don't know
Whoever you are, we need you to gain access to the warehouse
We gon′ move these from there and put them over here
We′ll build a building and tie that over there
Tellin' you too much anyway

Broken glass everywhere
If it ain′t about no money, dawg, I just don't care
Smokin′ on the sticky in the Chevy Bel Air
Wind blowin' and I′m just admiring her hair
She's a cold one, but I'm not sure if she′s real
We′ll know when she starts bringin' some money up in here
Tear it in, the ice thin
She expects a free ride ′cause her ass is fat
And her waist slim, baby girl

I know a whole bunch of them
And if they weren't born with it, then the surgeon put it in
Fuck it, though, my Cuban link, yellow gold
Diamond flooded kilo
They fucked up when they gave us enough time to reload
Now it′s a whole bunch of overturned vehicles
Sirens whinin' like cranky 3-0s
I′m laid up watchin' Dirty Dancin' in the winter home

"I′m a drug addict"