Tonalité : G minor
Verse 1
Dm
A
Dm
Yea, yea, yea
A
Ain't nothing, to the next life
Dm
Fool ain't nothing changed
A
Roll something up mama
Dm
Em
Eb
We fucked up
G
Am
Make sure of it
Verse 2
Dm
Uh, never will it stop
Crate motors with triple digit blocks
You wanna race I'll leave
Am
you by a couple blocks
Dm
Blow the doors off, break the
mothafuckin' locks
Nigga you know my steez
F
Spitta Andretti, pedal foot heavy,
you know I Speed
Am
Minus the bus and Keanu Reeves
Em
Twistin them FernGully trees,
G
Bitch breathe
A
Am
Your man smokin good, I'm smoking great
T- H- C, Tony the Tiger
certified these flakes
Dm
Murcielago green, just scored that Ferrari
Am
But I still got them
Lamborghini dreams
Dm
Confetti fall from the ceiling
to the floor
Bb
The Jets step through the door
Issue them awards
F
Your hoes hot for me type,
tissue to their draws
Bb
F
You mad upset,
Em
Me and your girl just up on the set
Am
Playin Black Ops,
let her drive my Chevy- Box to the corner store
Rockin Adidas flip- flops,
and some J- Crew
Dm
Argyle socks,
now watch them speed bumps
Am
Love don't fuck my rims up
Dm
Maybe we'll stick with you, put
you on the team official
Bb
But Jet Misses never tell
Dm
a Jet business
Bb
That's how we do it big enough
F
Am
for us to live in it
Dm
Em
Them other fools playing wit it,
Am
Em
blind rhyming saying they did it
Am
Shame on them niggas,
you can come through the set
But never bring em withcha
Verse 3
Dm
Yea though, the Vet flow, Best smoke
Collecting dough,
Em
Dm
adhering to the Jet Code
Am
And the Trill know the Jets cold,
Jets dope
Dm
Snatch your bitches,
Verse 4
bring em everywhere you can't go
Bb
Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
F
Em
Nigga, Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
A
Bitch, Yea Doe pound sign #JetsGO
Am
Collecting dough,
adhering to the Jet Code
Verse 5
Now I just wanna fuck mad bitches,
Em
Dm
for all the days I never
On second thought,
Bb
I always had em though
Am
But now they look better,
Dm
and quicker to be down for whatever
Like me,
her and her homegirl together
Bb
Changing the weather,
F
by chop of the Cessna propellers
Bb
We landed on the water,
Em
the game that I taught her
Got her showing me the Louie that
these duck niggas bought her
Am
It s a game to us,
we just hang and fuck
While she swipe your credit cards
on dispensary pot jars
Dm
I'm laid up, calling the front desk,
Am
tell them to send the maid up
Em
While we play the terrace
Am
and blaze up
Dm
These detailed lyrics is far to intricate
Bb
to be made up
Not pimping, what you gave her
F
Am
Was an inch, she took her foot and kicked
Em
you in the ass with it
The famous story of Mike
Tyson and Robbin Givens
Am
The biggest niggas get
Em
beat senseless by little women
Am
F
Look at Sam Rothstein,
A
he gave his whole world to Ginger
Am
Even these bosses be slippin, I catch that
G
Am
Try to be more flawless wit it,
A
calculated king of the city
Christopher Walken wit it,
Am
Dm
A
I admire his Empire, as did Biggie
Machine Gun Funk,
out of the Bowls
Dm
Bubba Kush & Hindu Skunk
Em
previously rolled
You know the game
Eb
chump, your chick chose
G
Better luck next time Captain Save a
Jets, Drugs, and Paper
Sex, sport cars and vacations
Eauh
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