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Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Where haven't we been?
Jet Life, Jet Life
And you could tell
From distance tryna figure
The reals say I’m
But I’m still
And you could tell

[Verse 1]
Ain’t nothing change but the weather
And the temp tag sequence of numbers and letters on my Chevelle
You can ride, but hey man watch my leather
Cuz bitches get ejected in traffic from disrespecting a classic
Rose in the glasses, get the weed out the plastic
Spitta in them Monstabeats radioactive, I don’t kick it with no rappers
They be hustling backwards
Like the jeans on criss cross, who you Mack daddy or daddy mackin?
Pen lyrics on back on these napkins
Zoned out in a first class cabin
With noise cancellation headphones
Two hash brownies for breakfast this morning staring down at at the ocean, inspired
Scribbling fire, on a streetcar named desire
Struggle a fence, you oughta get caught up in the barbed-wire
I’m independent, fuck yo system I get paid without it
Got a new pothead bitch who moonlighting as a blogger
That rapper weed she smoke, that Spitta stroke, she rolled about it
You can’t deny it, I am a ridah word to Pac ambition
Houdini your main squeeze, she disappear she’s a magician
You can’t blame in the midst of the fame planes get changed, I
Sent to the waffle house twit my order from the car mang

[Chorus x2]
And I'm lookin' famous
And you can tell by the reaction of them strangers
From distance try'na figure if it is or if it ain't him,
The real say I'm on it,
The haters say I ain't shit
But I'm still

[Verse 2]
I'm high again
Waitin' on the sun dozed off in my '57 at the drive in,
This is a scary movie I'm in,
But I do it for my folks who genuinely want me to win,
I do a lot of smokin to stay over this bogus shit,
My money and not on these bitches
My focus is locked
Niggas claimin to be jet planes, but they not
Pay homage, the founder in the house kid
A milf hunter ask yo momma
She can vouch bitch,
If she cool to fuck
And down with rollin that barney up
Race day money on the startin gate
Pony up, I hope ya hungry
I got a plate of ducks for ya homie
Look up, early mornin exercise doin kush ups
I ain't stingy with it
Got a couple pounds put up
Bitches used to overlook us
Now in my presence they shook up
See where this rap shit done took us
I'm still, still

Lyrics submitted by JamzXIV

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