Scottie Pippens - Intellectual

[Intro: Curren$y]

Yeah

Where haven't we

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

You should be rollin' up by now

Yeah

Locate your lighters (Ugh)

[Verse 1: Curren$y]

Showin' no signs of lettin' up

Still kick you in the head, like I think you on the verge of gettin' up

No mercy, Cobra Kai, Cobra Commander

Deadly-venom spitting, niggas just a salamander

I'm living a life worthy of capturing on camera

Documented, how one of the last live ones did it

How I rolled up in the drop, how I rolled up that sticky

How I rolled with them women, elegant player

No simpin', how I fucked 'em to sleep

How I rolled up out the building when I was finished, keep it G

Them niggas not original, they muhfuckin' House of Mirrors

Not quite the image, I'm on that Popeye spinach

Mama Mai-Tai sippin', she love a square nigga

But now, she tryin' somethin' different, Windy City Bulls

Mitchell & Ness wool jackets, some sweats, and Scottie Pippens

My description, high off that fuzzy, green prescription

Lyin' if I sayin' that I isn't; if you lookin' for that nigga

I is him, all eyes in this direction, a burden and a blessing

[Interlude: Curren$y & Freddie Gibbs]

Yeah, yeah

Ugh

For sure

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]

Ugh, reporting live from the devil's palace (Yeah)

Breakfast, had two titties, two blunts and a turkey-bacon sandwich (Yuh)

Two seasoned eggs and grape jelly, my hoes stay ready (Ugh)

Pop that pussy then peeled off in my Pontiac on Pirellis

'82 edition, spotless Bonnie squattin' on sixes (Ugh)

Rather be countin' stacks than stuck in the county, washin' the dishes (Nah)

Or washing drawers in the pen (Nah); got two zones of soft and some Hen'

I had go pay the correct correctional officer to walk 'em in (On them)

Bail money on deck, come at my neck (Yeah)

Bless that boy 'cause that same place where him test is where he slept

I issue eternal rest, sign up and be a subscriber (Yeah)

The price of life got so high that I must make sure I stay higher

Stay with the purp out of pee-zo, keep smackin' these geekers' needles

Stay runnin' the rock, just like I play quarterback for the Eagles

Randall, Donovan, or Michael

Fore I picked up this mic, I was hittin' licks with some Lords and did dirt with plenty Disciples

I'm gangbang affiliated (Ugh), federal-investigated, self-educated

All my co-conspirators catchin' cases (Yeah)

I dropped straight out of college, and I majored in home invasion

Believe, I got the balls to clear up all of my altercations

Leave faces with alterations, the closed-casket console (Yeah)

Tryin' to make a million dollars, fuck a million downloads

But if that equal the same, then slice that up and give me my change

I made a lane up in this game, so niggas gon’ remember the name:

Gangsta Gibbs, ho! Two bitches cooking in the crib, ho (Yeah)

Still push a bucket, but I ride it like a Benz, ho (Yeah)

Tryna find a bridge ho, to slangin' raps from slangin' weight (Ugh)

Said that Fred the new-age Brad, bitch, call me Baby Face Killa

[Outro: Freddie Gibbs]

Ugh, ugh