#Jetsgo

Lyrics

Yea. yea.yea
 Aint nothing... to the next life
 Fool aint nothing changed
 Roll something up mama
 We fucked up
 Make sure of it .
 Uhhh.
 Never will it stop
 Crate motors with Triple Digit Blocks
 You wanna race I'll leave you by a couple blocks
 Blow the doors off, break the mothafuckin' locks
 Nigga you know my Steez'
 Spitta Andretti, Pedal foot heavy you know I speed
 Minus the busing, Keano Reeves
 Twistin them Fern-gully trees, Bitch breathe
 Your man smokin good, I'm smoking great
 T-H-C, Tony the Tiger certified these flakes
 Murcielago green, just scored that Ferrari
 But I still got them Lamborghini dreams
 Confetti fall from the ceiling to the floor
 The JETS step through the door issue them awards
 Your hoes Hot-For-Me-Type, tissue to their draws
 You mad Upset, Me and your girl just up on the set
 Playin Black Ops, let her drive my Chevy-Box to the corner store
 Rockin Adidas flip-flops, and some J-Crew
 Argyle socks, now watch them speed bumps
 Love don't fuck my rims up
 Maybe well stick with you, put you on the Team Official
 But Jet Misses never tell a Jet business
 Thats how we do it big enough, for us to live in it
 Them other fools playing wit it, Blind Rhyming saying they did it
 Shame on them niggas, you come through the set,
 But never bring them withcha
 Yea though, the Vet flow, Best smoke,
 Collecting dough, adhering the Jet Code
 And the Trill know the Jet Code, We Jets though
 Snatch your bitches, bring em everywhere you cant go
 Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
 Nigga, Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
 Bitch, Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
 Collecting dough, adhering the Jet Code
 Now I just wanna fuck mad bitches, for all the days I never
 On second thought, I always had em though
 But now they look better, and quicker to be down for whatever
 Like me, her and her home-girl together
 Changing the weather, by the chop of the Cessna Propellers
 We landed on the water, the game that I taught her
 Got her showing me the Louie that these Duck niggas bought her
 Its a game to us, we just hang and fuck
 While she swipe your credit cards on Dispensary Pot Jars
 I'm laid up, calling the front desk, tell them to send the maid up
 While we play the terrace and blaze up
 These detailed lyrics is far to intricate to be made up
 Not pimping, what you gave her
 Was an inch, she took her foot and kicked you in the ass with it
 The Famous story of Mike Tyson and Robbin Givens
 The Biggest niggas get beat Senseless by little women
 Look at Sam Raw-stein, he gave his whole world to Ginger
 Even these bosses be slippin, I catch that
 Try to be more Flawless wit it, Calculated king of the city
 Christopher Walkin wit it, I admire his Empire, as did as Biggie
 Machine Gun Fonk, out of the Bowls
 Bubble Kush & Hindu Skunk previously rolled
 You know the game CHUMP your chick chose
 Better luck next time Captain Save her
 Jets, Drugs, and Paper
 Sex, Sport Cars and Vacations...
 ...Yea
 

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
03:12
Key
2
Tempo
83 BPM

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