Tonalité : G minor
Verse 1
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Checkered
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flag type shit
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Yea, when the speedometer
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C
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reads 70 miles per hour
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A spoiler is deployed from the trunk
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Less wind resistance, more power
Am
You ain't sat in nothing like
G
Em
this once (niggaa)
Am
Fresh from the pages of Car & Driver
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To the possession of high pilots
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File it in my collection
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With the rest of my shit
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Up- to- date bill sheets,
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documented mileage
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Handbook in the console
I know everything about it
Em
Got yo woman wet, she need goggles
Am
See me on the set,
Em
I'm the picture of survival
Am
Live in the flesh,
dropping bombs on my rivals
We the motherfucking JETS
Em
Am
You just motherfucking
clown shoes
Em
Borrowing ya big homie
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jewelry shooting virals
Em
Never wheeling them cars,
just standing by them
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Not really knowing them broads,
G
just standing by them
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No first class tickets,
G
Em
you just buy the stand- by ones
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I'm adding dollars, you admiring
Am
I'm Words With Friends whole
Em
G
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time in- flight wireless
Am
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Email full of condo prices
Am
Marble or granite,
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kitchen islands
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Got a mill out the deal I'm
still on the grind
Am
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(JET life on these niggas yeah)
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Got 10 more coming just
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give me some time
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(JET life on them bitches yeah)
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Putting it all together got
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something in mind
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(JET life on them niggas yeah)
Am
Show them better than I can
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tell them they gon feel me
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Show them better than I can tell
C
em they gon' feel me
Em
Am
Niggas I came up with changing
C
up say they gone kill me
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If they ever catch me slipping
C
Am
C
I dont give a fuck, sincerely
Am
I know they just emotional,
C
they love me, they fear me
Am
Em
They like my women, they see me steering,
wish they was in it
Am
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Jealousy, just feeding em negative energy
Am
Em
I put my hands together praying
for my friend- emies
Am
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Only let paper chasers dwell
Am
in this vicinity
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Am
Can't violate the JET
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code without penalty
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Even family get let go
Am
"Fredo, you killing me"
I work hard, bloggers thinking
Em
that it's 10 of me
Am
Dropping record after record
like them bitches slippery
Em
I like nice shit and I know how to get it
Am
Hustle dumbass,
Em
Am
it's not rocket science or Quantum Physics
Get on task fool, Trap til a trillion
Em
Wrote these raps in New Orleans and performed
Am
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them in New Zealand
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Word to Pusha T and that's
Am
legal drug dealing
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"My God", what a feeling
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Engineering
, Decepticon ceilings
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Push button disappearing
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when the drizzle clearing
I'll probably be laid in the enclave,
Em
until then
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Jet miss in the kitchen grilling up steaks
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It'll smell like Ruth's Chris in a minute fool,
you want a plate?
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The hero unsung when I'm done they'll say I'm great
Outro 1
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