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
@smartbot_tg_bot
