Still rolling in my Elco on them thiz-angs Niggas fucking up, they ain't fucking with the pliz-anes Hits from the bong, Cali strong, got me feeling like I Could kill a man, but I would rather kill a baseline These coke laced lines, too dope for most they turn their noses up Real niggas turn the music up more Lookin' out the cracked windows, sound and the smoke Got you high off both, drugs, audio. Y'all ain't got the heart for it. Get your cardio, in order bro Running for the money, pockets double-stuffed, Oreo's Party over here, bitches feeling like shit in the morning tho It's the shit life with the Jets, with fair warning. Hoe call who you gotta call before we be off I live far And your phone might not have bars Babydoll break that weed up for me I break you off something, Have you running your mouth, Leading your friends to me
Ah (lames catch feelings) Poolside, on rooftops (Jets count millions)
Motor under glass like a pheasant Jet plans under wraps like presents Stayed in my lane, gained leverage Executives checked my credit was merited We hustling together better than Expectations not met fools get ejected. Dropped like a Pharcyde record Gone into hiding like the canvas top of what I driving now Riding up the block they think I'm moving in the autobot If they not about light something for the cool niggas Roll another one for the ride Keep that bag that's all you nigga, I'm out. On another mission, steady paper twistin' Even when I was a broke nigga, bitches paid attention On another mission, steady paper twistin' Even when I was a broke nigga, bitches paid attention