Future – Usual (What I Usually Do) Lyrics

Produced By: Dumma Boy

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I put VVS's in my ears and rings (and that's usual!)
I buy Louis bags for bitches on my team (and that's usual!)
I just ordered a Coupe, don't come out 2013 (and that's usual!)
I take mollies and I mix it with the lean (and that's usual!)
Man, I turn up on these niggas every time (it's what I usually do!)
Got a million dollars worth of fucking dimes (it's what I usually do!)
Any time a nigga in the VIP (this what I usually do!)
Order hundred Rose bottles, all on me (and that's usual!)

[Verse 1]
My cup pink, my blunt stink
My bank roll, it won't fold
I'm out of here, in Pluto
Cop a two door and a four door, In the same day
Got two bitches, go both ways
They eatin good, like a Sunday
I'm a fly guy like a runway
My jacket leather, with a lil suede
I'm king baby, David Yurman
I'm a space cadet, I ain't even human
Get adios, in sixty seconds
I'm out of here, like George Jetson!
In the air with the Kush and plane
Take a pain killer, take away the pain
Real street nigga, take away the fame
I switch lanes with your main dame
Rock Chuck Taylors with the spikes on it
My ear lobes got ice on em
My main thing keep ice on her
With a big bag and some red bottoms
I spit fire, that real lava
I'm a superstar, now I'm a real problem
When I'm in the club, seen a hundred bottles
Seen a hundred bitches and they're all models
Champagne, pour it like it's water!
My chain swang it's H2O
Them clear diamonds, they shine and glow
I'm making movies like HBO
I'm strapped up with the four-four
I'm from lil Mexico, I'll take ya ho
I fuck with Hati like a real Zoe


I'm on Miley Cyrus, got more style than any stylist
See a pretty face with a bad body
She right beside me like a chain on
My frames on, they're Christian Dior
I'm draped to the floor
I hustle that boy like you shooting it up
I'm throwing that money like shooting it up
I'm rastafari, Jamaican tough
I'm backed by puff, I'm big in these streets!
I'm so high right now I can't feel my feet
I'm in Ferragamo, I'm in double G
That's Gucci on Gucci, from head to my feet
I'm geeked off the money like I snorted P
I turn up, I turn up, it's no one can compete
I broke the knob off and they vanished, capisce?
I can't see you, even though you see me
I'm back on my one-two, hooking up Peru
More money, more problems, what I'mma do?
I'm inside the zoo, I'm gone on that screw
Guerrilla warfare, choppa let loose
I hop in the Coupe, 200 on dash
My bitch very bad, my money come fast
The bottle's on fire like the 4th of July
Designer my eyes, designer my hoes
Designer my clothes, we pouring up fours
My jewelry froze, make commas and O's
It's all I know, Ben Franks
Grants and Jacks, I'm playing with the sacks
I take my bitch and let her play with them stacks
I take me a blunt and stuff it til it's fat
If it's 1000, that's real facts!
If it's OG, that's that loud pack!


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