W.O.H. (Way Out Here) (Prod. By Harry Fraud & John Sparkz)
[Intro] They ain't high as us Niggas lying to ya They ain't high as us
There's more money to get, cars to park Bitches to break, wars to start I'm still living my life There are no stars Way out here, it's only us, dog
Niggas ain't high as us Lying to ya
[Verse 1: Curren$y] Uh, undetected by radar Closed circuit track, endurance laps, race cars You niggas just say y'all Doing that shit, I been into it nigga, play ball Junior varsity don't want no parts of me, triple O I just drive like that to protect my rims, I ain't slow Tell me it's 'bout a check, you'll see how fast it go That drug dealer flow, George Gervin, ice cold Finger roll with that pen, I turn that paper into gold Axl Rose through the Bose in my Rolls Through the concrete you see a rose still rose Counted up a million dollars 'fore that sun rose Spitting game for the Range, dropping tracks for the racks In the booth of the crib with the boat docks in the back With them automated gates, remote control's in my lap '84 riding, I did that for my lifers
[Hook] Yea, uh It's more money to get, cars to park Bitches to break, wars to start I'm still living my life There are no stars Way out here, it's only us, dog
(Way out here)
[Verse 2: Styles P] Way out here, you can feel the ambiance Hundred thousand dollar V's, bottles of Dom Pérignon Keep the profit from the brick you popped your cherry on White CL Benz dealin', I throw my cherries on I think about money yea a lot of money I'm speaking lotto money, Abu Dhabi money Same old stoner, yea I'm blowing loud You can grow weed but I can exhale and grow a cloud You ain't real high, you mid-level Smoking on that shit we let the kids peddle I made a couple M's off what them kids peddle Speak on my name wrong, bet you see them kids' metal Blast for me, is a blasphemy Say the realest nigga alive, I think you asked for me I'm jet-setting with my nigga Spitta We like to speak paper and it's getting thicker