[Intro]

Yea. yea..yea

(Ain't nothing changed) To the next life

Fool, ain't nothing changed

Roll something up, mama

We fucked up

Make sure of it

[Verse 1]

Uhh, never will it stop

Crate motors with triple digit blocks, you wan' 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 bus, and Keanu 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 hoe's hot for me

Tie up 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 we'll stick with you

Put you on the team, official

But Jet-misses never tell a Jet business

That's how we do it big enough for us to live in it

Them other fools playing with it

Blind rhyming, saying they did it, shame on them niggas

You can come through the set, but never bring them withcha

[Chorus]

Yeah, though, the vet flow, best smoke

Collecting dough, adhering to the Jet code

And the trill know the Jets code, Jets dope

Snatch your bitches, bring 'em everywhere you can't go

Yeah, though, pound sign, Jets go

Nigga, yeah, though, pound sign, Jets go

Bitch, yeah, though, pound sign, Jets go

Collecting dough, adhering to the Jet code

[Verse 2]

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 homegirl together

Changing the weather, by 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 Rothstein, he gave his whole world to Ginger

Even these bosses be slippin

I catch that, try to be more flawless with it

Calculated king of the city, Christopher Walken with it

I admired his empire, as did Biggie

Machine Gun Funk, out of the bowls

Bubba 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

Yeah