Scottie Pippens

Album cover art for "Scottie Pippens" by Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs

Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs - Rap

Scottie Pippens

68.3K Plays

Duration: 3:07

Lyrics

[Intro: Curren$y] Yeah Yeah Where haven't we Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life You should be rollin' up by now Yeah Locate your lighters (Ugh) [Verse 1: Curren$y] Showin' no signs of lettin' up Still kick you in the head, like I think you on the verge of gettin' up No mercy, Cobra Kai, Cobra Commander Deadly-venom spitting, niggas just a salamander I'm living a life worthy of capturing on camera Documented, how one of the last live ones did it How I rolled up in the drop, how I rolled up that sticky How I rolled with them women, elegant player No simpin', how I fucked 'em to sleep How I rolled up out the building when I was finished, keep it G Them niggas not original, they muhfuckin' House of Mirrors Not quite the image, I'm on that Popeye spinach Mama Mai-Tai sippin', she love a square nigga But now, she tryin' somethin' different, Windy City Bulls Mitchell & Ness wool jackets, some sweats, and Scottie Pippens My description, high off that fuzzy, green prescription Lyin' if I sayin' that I isn't; if you lookin' for that nigga I is him, all eyes in this direction, a burden and a blessing [Interlude: Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs] Yeah, yeah Ugh For sure Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life [Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] Ugh, reporting live from the devil's palace (Yeah) Breakfast, had two titties, two blunts and a turkey-bacon sandwich (Yuh) Two seasoned eggs and grape jelly, my hoes stay ready (Ugh) Pop that pussy then peeled off in my Pontiac on Pirellis '82 edition, spotless Bonnie squattin' on sixes (Ugh) Rather be countin' stacks than stuck in the county, washin' the dishes (Nah) Or washing drawers in the pen (Nah); got two zones of soft and some Hen' I had go pay the correct correctional officer to walk 'em in (On them) Bail money on deck, come at my neck (Yeah) Bless that boy 'cause that same place where him test is where he slept I issue eternal rest, sign up and be a subscriber (Yeah) The price of life got so high that I must make sure I stay higher Stay with the purp out of pee-zo, keep smackin' these geekers' needles Stay runnin' the rock, just like I play quarterback for the Eagles Randall, Donovan, or Michael Fore I picked up this mic, I was hittin' licks with some Lords and did dirt with plenty Disciples I'm gangbang affiliated (Ugh), federal-investigated, self-educated All my co-conspirators catchin' cases (Yeah) I dropped straight out of college, and I majored in home invasion Believe, I got the balls to clear up all of my altercations Leave faces with alterations, the closed-casket console (Yeah) Tryin' to make a million dollars, fuck a million downloads But if that equal the same, then slice that up and give me my change I made a lane up in this game, so niggas gon' remember the name: Gangsta Gibbs, ho! Two bitches cooking in the crib, ho (Yeah) Still push a bucket, but I ride it like a Benz, ho (Yeah) Tryna find a bridge ho, to slangin' raps from slangin' weight (Ugh) Said that Fred the new-age Brad, bitch, call me Baby Face Killa [Outro: Freddie Gibbs] Ugh, ugh

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Credits

Writers
  • Curren$y
  • The Alchemist
  • Freddie Gibbs