调:G minor•
Verse 1
Gm
D
Gm
Yea, yea, yea
Gm
Am
Ab
We fucked up
Verse 2
Crate motors with triple digit blocks
You wanna race I'll leave
mothafuckin' locks
Nigga you know my steez
you know I Speed
D
Dm
Your man smokin good, I'm smoking great
T- H- C, Tony the Tiger
certified these flakes
Lamborghini dreams
to the floor
Issue them awards
tissue to their draws
let her drive my Chevy- Box to the corner store
Rockin Adidas flip- flops,
and some J- Crew
now watch them speed bumps
you on the team official
you can come through the set
But never bring em withcha
Verse 3
Collecting dough,
Jets dope
Verse 4
bring em everywhere you can't go
adhering to the Jet Code
Verse 5
Now I just wanna fuck mad bitches,
On second thought,
Like me,
her and her homegirl together
Got her showing me the Louie that
these duck niggas bought her
we just hang and fuck
While she swipe your credit cards
on dispensary pot jars
Not pimping, what you gave her
Bb
Dm
Was an inch, she took her foot and kicked
The famous story of Mike
Tyson and Robbin Givens
Christopher Walken wit it,
Dm
Gm
D
I admire his Empire, as did Biggie
Machine Gun Funk,
out of the Bowls
You know the game
Jets, Drugs, and Paper
Sex, sport cars and vacations
Eauh
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