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Blood, Sweat and Gears

Blood, Sweat and Gears Lyrics Curren$y feat. Fiend

Album: Covert Coup

[Intro]
Take this opportunity to roll up
Locate ya lighters

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Laced David Robinson's, Wally moccasins
Matte black paint, polished rims
The fuck you said, I ain't hear clear
Too much money talking in my ear
The end result of two albums in one year
Blood, sweat and gears, life in between the racing strips
We break day everynight
Alternative lifestyle, I ain't looking for a pussy boy
This trill jet shit, just enjoy
That's yo wifey but she's still a Jet miss
Give her directions to telly and a checklist
Arriving shortly with the items I requested
Reinforced the frame with that jive nigga repellant
My new plane, maintain the smoke
Let you take a couple grams home if you my folk
Eyeball you a lil something, I ain't the weed man though
But if you give me 15 min, i'll call my folks, he'll be at the door
Connectin' 4 marine batteries on one side of the trunk
To go with them other 4 batteries
Thats powering the pumps
Its the juice in them cylinders that make that Chevy jump
You already know ain't gotta tell ya bout it partner
Yo bitch stay talkin and you steady eavesdropping

[Bridge: Fiend]
Rolling trees can do something for you
No matter what you be goin' through

[Verse 2: Fiend]
Execution flow
Ten thousand grams of potassium
Streets I roam, Mama praying like the Vatican
My life feels like treadin' water in the ocean
Who's panickin'
I'm dope, sudden moves is drug traffickin'
Tell I'm gettin' dough, I'm getting fat again
What I do to hear my loved ones laugh again
Say love go on and give me your math again
Got a movie later on you'll be actin' in
Life is like free throws
Some things ya gon' miss
Some things ya make
Don't rush, don't wait
I call pape time travel machine
It can get ya there faster but it can't wake a permanent sleep
I never compromise my fresh
Smoke kush not cess
Why cry I'm blessed
I'll lend you the bail out
The ones I call my Tank Dogs in the jail house
Jets smoking in the club on tour
Born in New Orleans all new friends bonjour
I'm "je m'appelle International Jones"
And Louie scarfs down there smoking one with the homies
Walls full of vinyl
All bars are final
Life of Richie Rich, first name not Lionel
International jones
Curren$y the spitta
Alchemist my nigga
Tell them ladies go figure

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