You should be rolling up by now
Locate your lighters
It's prime time
It's mister go left from the bitch
Who can't find her right mind
I'm squeaking past a yellow light
Doin 65, hope that wasn't one of them camera joints
Traffic eyes in the sky
I'm kind of high
What you done twisted
I'm used to that killer shit
So I maintain my pimping
While you're over high and slizzered
And I'm laughin at you slipping
And your bitch feeling disgusted and miserable
She is like why is she even here with you
I'm puttin air in my inner tubes
Black mags on my Haro hanging from the wall
The allure of my home decor
Got these girls tripping
And frequently speaking of return visits
A time machine my lyrics
The same things for my garage dawg
You see what I just put in it
We try'n to compete with them Nascars
You noticing that the stylin got switched up
Cause the last one got bit up
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up
This Jet Life ain't for everybody
This shit is reserved for us
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up
The stylin got switched up
Cause the last one got bit up
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up