JETS Lyrics

(Yeah)

(bah, bah, bah, bah,)

(Yeah, Yeah)

(bah, bah, bah, bah)

(Let's get-)

(Yeah)

(bah, bah, bah, bah)

(How the fuck did Rams get that car?)

Money on my head, money on my head

(Do you have salsa?)

Yeah

Let me get straight to it

I'm a bad man

Mr. Flip-a-pack-and-make-it-do-a-hand-stand

He got bags you would think he's gonna camp

He a ghost, he a motherfuckin' vamp

She be suckin' dick like she don't got a man

Bitch I keep that heat on me like motherfuckin' Bam

I do what the fuck I wanna' do that make 'em mad

We ain't goin out sad, we gettin' bags

Yellow diamonds, blue stones

Smokin' Purple,

I'm too stoned

Why this, bitch, on my phone?

Hold up, that's a, bankroll

I said let's get gone, I ain't goin' home

I can feel the drugs, I can feel it in my soul

Dressed in all white like a motherfuckin' Pope

Dressed in all white like a motherfuckin' Clone

Bitch, I'm a freak, we can do what you want

I won't meet your uncle, bitch, I will not meet your aunt

Get this bitch singin' just like Mary J. Blidge

But I keep that stick on me I'm grippin' that baton

And I keep a couple foreign whips in my garage

I been on a journey, bitch I do not whip a Dodge

Fuckin on yo' best friend, we take pics

I don't give a fuck, no bitch, I do not give a shit

Call my man, call my man, what's the bid?

We can smoke on this gas, take a hit

If you don't got that bag, I'ma dip,

Fuck yo' man, fuck yo' dog, fuck yo' bitch

Yellow diamonds, blue stones

Smokin' Purple

I'm too stoned

Why this, bitch, on my phone?

Hold up, that's a, bankroll

I said let's get gone, I ain't goin' home

I can feel the drugs, I can feel it in my soul

Dressed in all white like a motherfuckin' Pope

Dressed in all white like a motherfuckin' Clone

(Money on my head, money on my head)

(bah, bah, bah, bah)

(Money on my head, money on my head)

(bah, bah, bah, bah)

(Money on my head, money on my head)

(bah, bah, bah, bah)

(Money on my head, money on my head)

(bah, bah, bah, bah)