[Intro:] This is the fruit of our hard work The belief in the entrepreneur spirit The new American dream A toast A toast to my family, life, till death
[Verse:] Uh, I wrote this sitting in the back Of that triple black with the picnic tables Twisting up a sack, my Cuban link cables prove I'm in the majors A prime time playa', high quality rhymes Earn these wages allowing me to make wagers double your life savings We on yacht's waving Champagne cases, cocaine traces found Seeping from the speakers when the bass kick Hella baked dropping these tapes, raking cakes in Millions my nigga, keep that under like the basement Engine running on that spaceship She sexy like a woman, speeding like a bullet, don't pull up to it I bet you want race it, I went to class with a craftsman who made this Upper class shit, fresher than mince At the event, I'm a king, sonning these rappers, I make you a prince New Jet City, ya Uh, to stand in front this money train doesn't make sense I never hustled with no lame's, why would I begin? I'm surviving in the game where many don't win But loser ain't my name mane', that's one of them I'm gripping woodgrain, got a journal full of shrimp Listening to Max B, wishing he was free But he not, so we smoke a whole ounce for Gang Green Jet Life motherfucker we the A-Team No van that's a Lamb, lift them wings There's a difference between a plan and a scheme Make sure your crew all true to the same things New Jet CityTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
