Lyrics of 'Hammers And Vogues (feat. Curren$y)' by Stalley

Hammers and Vogues, bitches and hoes, my niggas on that king ish

I’m selling peace on Earth, God
I’m trying not to be so worked, God
For what it’s worth, I’m overtime
Grindin’ until the sun up
Jewel polishing, tryna stay an honest man with my come up
Niggas keep testing me, I’m tryna put these guns up
They got me looking like a redneck, looking for trespassers
All these demons in my way, I’m tryna brush past them
The psychology of armed robbery excites them
Indictment for my writing did more than enlighten
Just ask them, did some fighting on the way up
Lost a couple partners, now I’m just past ten
And one of them going in he might catch a L or
Get a one to ten, I’m just tryna reel him in
Keep him safe from this jungle
But it’s hard to keep these apes out the rumble, I was tryna make amends
Stack a couple ends
Cause there’s no ends to this life that we live so I’m on my Jet ish
Shout to Curren$y, a nigga straight respect it
Just enjoy this life, fall in love, lay back and enjoy your wife
And think twice before you throw the dice
Think twice before you throw the dice
Think twice before you throw the dice

Uh, heavy is the wrist that carries the crown
My Rolex represents the work that I put down
I hustled hard for this
Getting it, riding ’round, soft top ’76
Become a legend in the south, nigga we the shit
Jet Life got yo bitch’s fingers hella sticky from the doobie twisting
Fool if you ain’t up on things
I know you seen me and Stalley exiting that plane
Jamaica living playa, I’m too high for you to aim at
Laid back, ordering some wings in my wave cap
Nigga, I live like my dead homeboy still here
Order a hundred bottles and sit ‘em by empty chairs
It’s just money, we hustling, we gon’ get more of it
I counted a hundred grand this morning
Them niggas gon’ hate and them hoes gon’ – you know

Paint the perfect picture with the perfect scriptures
They call me the perfect enigma
These haters call me the example of a perfect stigma
But to be quite perfect, I ain’t perfect nigga
I mean I could be perfect wit’ ya
But I’d rather puff the swisher and listen to some Mister
Styrofoam, no glasses
Codeine poured thicker than molasses, I’m leaning when I’m blowed
I’m just speaking what I know, they say I walk like a show
Motion picture, full feature
I’m numb to what’s going on, no emotions, hard to reach him
And I keep my circle small so I’m hard to leech from
And I’m living like Robin Leach, son
Lifestyles of the rich and famous, I ain’t leased one
All them Chevys mine and completely done
Rallies dualies and the T-tops when I need to see the sun