Yeah
Yeah
Jets nigga where haven't we been yet
Shout out to the Hot Boys
Kid Legend
Motherfucker you know
Spitta speeding
'84 Monte Carlo Lamborghini green dipped
Nigga you seen it at the red light
Your bitch was on the passenger side cheesing
You was mad, I saw your face
Now there's drama in your car like a Gangsta Grillz tape
I just lean and mash on the gas pedal
Flicking ash from the zig-zag
Streetlights dance in my watch bezel
My locs too blacked out
Cause I don't see nobody else on my level
Made it to the top of the world and I wanted company
I invited another niggas girl to smoke a blunt with me
You didn't bring your cleats to the track meet
You can't run with me
I'm not fronting G
Roll my spot comfortably
There's a place for you on the charts somewhere under me
The labels is slumbering
The radio's putting out garbage quick as it's coming in
The listeners is suffering
There's a handful of good rappers
But not enough of them
Who break out of the cookie cutter mold they try to stuff us in
How did I show the real that I had enough of them
I dedicated this past seven moths to them
Yeah
Jets nigga
F
I
N
Roll the curtains
Yeah
