Text for song:
They shippin' that Lam to the crib while I'm on tour.
When I get off of this bus, it's gon' be pedal to the floor.
'fore a nigga even set foot through the do' it's gon' be laps in that hoe.
Dolo. Fool, I ain't got time for no bitches.
But I do gotta Rolex where my long sleeves endin'.
A house on my wrist. A car on each pinky.
I got all of this, from laughin' at them lames while I'm rollin' up my sticky.
Lightnin' strike again. Jet Lifers, niggas always rewritin' history.
Fools hear our verses & rewrite that shit, they scriblin'.
Bitches see my bitches & consider tryin' women.
I pulled up drunk. Talkin' shit. In the lobby of my buildin'.
Push the button in the elevator took it straight to the ceiling.
Doors open in the livin' room, that's penthouse, pimpin'.
Yehh, girl I did it.
I'd advise you to play yo position 'fore you see another hoe in yo jersey tryna score thirty, ya heard me?
A nigga been focused since I said Hi to her.
We higher than the Eiffel. You suckas is like fools.
Fool, who designed you? Nigga, I was built to make sure this sucka shit get killed.
Homie Ima well, big muhfuckin fish.
Of course you gon' see a ocean where I live.
Of course if I rolled it that's top shelf hemp.
Of course she got them Jordans on tryna impress him.
Titties out, when I fall in. Bring the whole city out.
I did it for Slim.... Jet Life.