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(Jet life) White carpet in my star face house No one to gon dis on my scar faced spouse My IV the twisted reefer and delivering that dough To the front door like a piece of carrying her own Always financially she don't need me She is just in love with a real nigger continuously weedin At my under closed location my grow space is reading up on vintage V12 engines and the greatest strains this season and I grind for that very reason the toxic air that I'm breathin a leave an average man weakened watermarks still on the houses as I drive by crack the soundproofs let a cloud out it trill shit Next time I vacate I'm bringing all my cars on a plane with me Lor' see the same we gonna make it an' show our folks how to make them millions Grapplin' hooks scaleing the building rap with no hooks I'm high hows you feelin' Captin hook wild'n in the ceiling though no stealin that shit heard I know the feeling these niggas a borrowin yo style like you wasn't about to go do nuttin with it That's why I only kick it with real niggas like Dom Kennedy and people I ain't got to name cuz they was probly here gettin high wit me If you don't know where to put it at than I'll ride wit it There I try to lose you in the system for some weed in my city In the heart ain't no love or no pity Looking for charity that dog don't hunt don't come in the woods with it (Jet life) Aus Songtexte Mania