... lyrics

Yeah
You can let it run through the break too
After the verse
Uh
Jets n*gga where haven't we
Jets n*gga where haven't we
Uh

We don't care if your club full of b*tches
We will not be in it unless we smoking weed in it
This is not a secret
What you see is what you get
Would have told you before
But the sativa made me forget
I just got a lump sum
What I'm 'bout to get
Maybe a couple Porshces
Big ass crib with the front and the rear porches
n*ggas act like their hands glued to the torches
Don't want to pass it
Gotta grab it 'fore someone let you have it
Dammit the vibes are global domination, plan quick
Kill off n*ggas who can't spit
Rely on ghost writers
Invisible, remind me of my Stan Smiths
Burbank airport just landed
Seconds later scooped up by a bad b*tch
The carry on don didn't check baggage
I carry on strong for the Jets I'm a captain
n*ggas can't fly with the fake boarding passes
Thirsty ass b*tches shaking asses
Looking for them millionaires
Like trying to find her Louis glasses
b*tch please
Twist the trees, get high
Give the pus*y up then leave
Yeah
Yeah
That's all love
But don't stop recording
Cause I think
This would be a good time to tell them
Cause Rome wanted me to tell ya'll
This the last tape
Fin dot dot dot
Yup
Download me aight