[Intro]

Cut the music up please

Man

[Verse 1]

I'm so fucked up, you have no idea

I smoke that La La La, it's music to my ears

All my niggas is wasted, got guns on they waist

She don't use Pro-Active, she put Cum on her face

I'm a real nigga first, I'm a bitch nigga never

Shawty suck me dry, I'm talkin' dry like a dessert

Nigga get off my dick, bitch, get on my level

I don't gas these hoes, take your foot off the pedal

Man, I be on my deck, 'bout to break my neck

Shout Nyjah Huston, Stevie Will, Ryan Sheck'

Papa got the TEC, it can get technical

Pimp shit, never, put the pussy on a pedestal

Niggas out of shape, I'm just bein' geometrical

Tunechi, leave 'em bitches behind like residue

New Orleans, where we turn a funeral into a festival

Young Money, long money, it ain't even measurable

I'm stuntin', uh, like my daddy

She give me neck, uh, Peyton Manning

Yeah, I press a button, uh, and lose my roof

I'm spittin' blood shit like I lost a tooth, uh

[Chorus]

I went from sittin' in a cell

To sittin' on a jet

From shittin' in a cell

To shittin' on a jet

I made too much money, I ain't make enough yet

So I scratch, and yes, junior is the best

[Verse 2]

Man, all these bitches and niggas still hatin'

My homies got that weight and I ain't talkin' 'bout patience

Man, we be on some other shit, kidnap your mother shit

And we smoke that strong like the weed got muscles, bitch

I'm Tunechi, got what you need

I got some cocaine and some California weed

Them bitches jockin', niggas hatin', drunk off Gin and Socko

If he keep on talkin' shit, I'll knock the meat out his taco

And I ain't playin', I got killers with me, ain't got no squealers with me

And the back of the milk carton say my ceiling's missing

And now my vision blurry and I'm with kissin' cousins

I'll make 'em rob you masked up, you think them bitches muslims

Scoob filmin' it, smooth criminal

I'ma prince, nigga, you Arsenio

We pick you off and bounce, that's the pick and roll

Crème de la crème, de la criminal

T, where you at? Make the blunt fat

Young Money that special team, run the punt back

Yeah, that's me in that 'Gatti with the hump back

I'll stick my thumb in her pussy with a thumbtack

[Chorus]

Sittin' in a cell (Woah)

To sittin' on a jet

From shittin' in a cell

To shittin' on a jet

I lost too many homies and I won too many bets

So I scratch, and yes, junior is the best, uh-huh

[Outro]

Uh-huh

Uh-huh

Uh-huh