Ventilation - The Alchemist, Curren$y

White carpet in my star face house

No one to gon dis on my scar faced spouse

My IV the twisted reefer and delivering that dough

To the front door like a piece of carrying her own

Always financially she don’t need me

She is just in love with a real nigger continuously weedin

At my under closed location my grow space is reading up on vintage V12 engines

and the greatest strains this season

and I grind for that very reason

the toxic air that I’m breathin a leave an average man weakened

watermarks still on the houses as I drive by

crack the soundproofs let a cloud out it

trill shit

Next time I vacate I’m bringing all my cars on a plane with me

Lor' see the same we gonna make it an' show our folks how to make them millions

Grapplin' hooks scaleing the building rap with no hooks I’m high hows you

feelin'

Captin hook wild’n in the ceiling though no stealin that shit heard I know the

feeling

these niggas a borrowin yo style like you wasn’t about to go do nuttin with it

That’s why I only kick it with real niggas like Dom Kennedy

and people I ain’t got to name cuz they was probly here gettin high wit me

If you don’t know where to put it at than I’ll ride wit it

There I try to lose you in the system for some weed in my city

In the heart ain’t no love or no pity

Looking for charity that dog don’t hunt don’t come in the woods with it

(Jet life)