4 Hours & 20 Minutes (Ride To H-Town) (feat. Killa Kyleon) (Prod. by Young Los)
[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Now some of these niggas is so deceptive Usin' my style, pimpin' you foul Want to be the top gun son, though Spitta don't have a child '96 Impala digit dash read a hundred miles and Runnin' straight rhyme, butta layin' the lace Sweet revenge, funnel cakes, watch the bulls and pony race Lamborghini Ferrari shoot-out, at the grand prix V-12 screamin' like a banshee Pokemon, try to catch 'em all before them hoes get out the parking lot Bitches who tryna to move up, be quick to choose us Shorty say she dig my music, but sometimes I lose her Open up her mind, pass that rapper weed over to her Free game, you should sponge it up mama, loofah Loser, used her, sent her back to you a lil' bit looser Roofless, coupes is, vicious, shit rootless Two triple black C5s, double homicide
[Hook: Curren$y] (X1)
Jet life to the next life, alright And onto H-Town, ride and smoke all night Igloo fool, keep it cool, on ice Jet life to the next life, alirght...
[Verse 2: Killa Kyleon]
Ridin' first class, Killa Cut the check, hand me my boardin' pass They look up to the Jets We lookin' down at them unloaded ass Walk it, like I talk, like I bought it outta politics Benjamin, Jackson, Hamilton - bitch I'm into politics Republicancs and Democrats, but sorry I'm not into that Direct me to them paper planes, now where them pretty women at White cups, got 'em double stacked, my SS like a hovercraft Soarin' through them kush clouds, yeah that's where I hover at I'm lovin' that, Jet life to the next life I elope with that money, broke is my ex-wife Killa split her, pass her like a doobie, and let Spitta hit her Killa splitter, I can even get her if her nigga with her (haha) Pimpin' on my priest shit, Dynamite Willie Heart cold when it comes to TLC, I'm chilli Lookin' for a sucka? well, you got the wrong rapper That ain't my lifestyle, you took off the wrong wrapper I'm a Magnum!