Yeah, Its still FS n***a, Jet Set n***a
Roam a lot, west coast cell phone, I got hoes locked
So my California visits be prop ass broads, with cannabis cards
Hard top like convertible cars, n***as thought I sold mine
Brother you out your mother fucking mind
I am still that n***a, wood grain wheels, still the Laguna SS
Freddy Kruger SB’s on the gas I step, accelerating n***as get left, right
Try to gimmy crap mother fucker no dice, spitta snap like the back of my Bape hat
Dont ask where I got it I hate that, I'm connected people I get it where they make it at
At the Lakers game me and TK sitting adjacent to Jack, give them a couple seconds to compute that
This that spitter shit bitch don't confuse that
We have these other dudes rap peace and love hell raise uh uh dude
My straps cruising in my Escalade eating fruit snacks
I'm on my big kid shit got rich bought all the things I couldn't get when I wanted them
Got it all full of dimes and hundreds, I can only ride one of them
Back in the G they made fun of them now they labels telling em you need to do one wit him, yeah yeah