Jet Life
Bossed Up
[Verse 1: Trademark Da Skydiver]
Real n***as coming up, fake n***as laying down
Trademark I'm here to stay, guaranteed you'll see me 'round
Stuntin' in some sharp apparrel, khaki slacks, I'm 'laxed and casual
With a focused mind, I'm on a straight of narrow
I just want what's mines, that's only natural
Large estates, cherry wood floors with marble statues
I see it in my dreams, so I know it's coming for me
N***as tryna block my shine, trust me I ain't worried
Back against the wall, I'm yelling, "fuck 'em all"
I came here to ball, right hand on my balls
Left hand middle fingers up cuz I don't give a fuck
You can tell from my attitude I'm getting bucks
Strong kush in the cones got a n***a stuck
I'm headed to the top, momma wish me luck
Haters wish I fail, even though I will prevail
That's just how I feel, but only time will surely tell

[Hook: Smoke DZA]
Uh, It's a real n***a outing
So I'mma wear what I wanna wear, Right
Hustlin', I'm mad where I'm at dawg
Bitches call me when the money there
I pull up, pick up, now grip up
Uhhh, and if you hustlin'
Put your bands up, bands up
And all my real G's stand up and what? Riiight
[Verse 2: Young Roddy]
And I hotbox the whip, I make it hard for her to breathe
My pound game official, make a broad don't want leave
Got bags under my eyes from no sleep
Got cash under my bed from '03, one love to my plug
That n***a put me on my feet, it's still fuck them n***as
Tell 'em I'm rolling one deep, I ain't scared fool, whats beef?
To a cattle who lost his peeps, us ghetto kids
Keep more than a trick up our sleeve, I ain't doing that just for me
This for my sisters and my C's
Or men thats in these streets like A-wax, I ride D's
I pray they keep their face on, my n***as with disbelief
No disrespect girl, but til I'm gone it's M.O.B
That chopper on that front seat like fuck it, its M-O-me
I got it out that modern Nike shoes, now no cleats
They label me a beast, "you better than me?" "n***a, please."
A rebel 'til I leave, and 'til I leave, its J-E-T, oouutt

[Hook: Smoke DZA]

[Verse 3: Smoke DZA]
Two years ago I was chopping O's
Now I get pound money to rock a show
The OG's like "little pappa go"
Fly to H-town just to hit Pappadeaux
I'm too popular to be normal
Die off that OG every night, fool, I'm immortal
One time for my little bro, little doobies
Just a few months and I smoke, and everything'll be gucci
Kushed God, you looking at a new breed
My N.O. n***as will kill for me like I'm Drew Breeze
Hustler, slash, author
See that a rotten apple just another dirty New Yorker
Show stopper, hoes jock him, think he's awesome
Go rock 'em, big Cuban looking flawless
So tell them non-believers they can hold my Johnson
King of New York, n***a, Rugby Thompson