C/Curren$y/Money Machine (feat. Young Roddy & Trademark)
Jet Life
Roll one up for them haters, I'm just counting my paper
Jets count millions
Make my way to a million looking out the plane windows
Yeahh Tony said Frank wouldn't last, now Frank woman upstairs packing bags Survival of the fittest, her sponsor no longer living, plight of these kept ass bitches When the dreams all end and then the boss, slam, casket closed Welcome to the school of hard knocks, you ain't know you was enrolled? Cold, I know, what's colder is these streets When your name no longer hot, you feel me? Seen niggas and bitches go through a dope game in the music lifestyle Hard to attain But it's easy to get used to it, try to maintain, under pressure Only few do it, and that's what inspires you to try The gleam in your eye, manifested in your mind, then you start your climb Remembering whoever you step on to come up, you may meet them another time Fuck em, doe Cause if the foot was in the other shoe, them niggas' stand on you to get a better view Telling you the truth, while taking them to school Fools don't think how I think, can't see these lines like I scribbled in invisible ink in these tablets Jet Life Commandments, thou shall not rest until I make my whole fam rich Fuck you take me fo? One of them sucka niggas who forget to sit when he blow? Never that, JLR, we'll have his whole world changed by tomorrow Lighters and Ozium in my car, in no way am I playing with y'all When I say I'm so high, if I was to trip and fall, I'd land on Mars But don't mistake my highness for blindness, giving me them fake smiles, I know what's behind them I swim with the sharks everyday You back stroking with the guppies Supposedly big dogs get chopped down to puppy, size Utterly euthanized by these flows I've been crafted, secretly in my labyrinth, sleeping on a charred mattress Nights so hot, get that girl to the pool before she pass out, livin in a landmark New Ferrari underneath the carport, my landshark Invite me to your party, reserve me somewhere to park I'm not sure what you thought, fuck pullin off on the [?] You got twenty minutes free? How bout a fast brunch? Pitch me whatever proposals you, want, but no promises though I got a lot on my plate, no ham omelets, I'm on my conglomerate Word to the kid, Willie the fly, always on top of shit, really... Yeahh
Roll one up for them haters, I'm just counting my paperTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
