lirik lagu jet life – dirty money
[hook: young roddy]
hood n-gga; for the record, i don’t give a f-ck, b-tch
[verse 1: young roddy]
trill n-gga, all i ever feared was the feds
and i don’t want no p-ssy if it don’t come with no head
that o.g. keep them young boys in a daze
they’ll shoot you in your head and leave your -ss for dead
they better stay in they lane, they don’t wanna collide with me
and free my n-gga lil’ d, he cooked them pies for me
shout out to my brother buck, he’ll ride for me
got a hood b-tch who’ll take the stand, she’ll lie for me
and they finally ’bout to free my n-gga tubby
he been gone for some summer sh-t and i ain’t even frontin’
and all he ever wanted was a pocket full of money
and a b-tch who got a fat -ss who down to match his hustle
man, this sh-t get ugly in the gutter
where k!llers totin’ them choppers
and them n-ggas sellin’ bundles
my homie barely seen his father, he been workin’ doubles
and chasin’ after them b-tches, that’s a cold motherf-cker
and i’m just tryin’ stay safe and stay humble
while cleanin’ this dirty money, they can’t knock a n-gga hustle
i always spoke my mind, i ain’t ever wear no muzzle
and even that b-tch katrina couldn’t wash away my troubles
but i’m just tryin’ ball like the rucker
better yet, f-ck that, i’m tryin’ ball like i’m russell
a buck fifty soaking wet, still flexin’ my muscle
gettin’ paid, my money talkin’, that’s word to chris tucker
i buy a whole pound and let it burn like usher
break down a whole brick, bag it up and straight pump it
let my girl count my money, that’s some player sh-t for ya
i toss a few hundred to my doja, that’s my runner
shorty a true rebel, he’ll shoot your -ss in public
for the low price or for free, he don’t give a f-ck ’bout no karma
ain’t ever had no job, he ain’t ever had no diploma
unless you talkin’ the block, he made some money on the corner
he had the hood on fire, he a hot boy
and i ain’t nothin’ like them rappers who be lyin’, boy
my n-gga black had a plug on them glocks, boy
if you a f-ck boy, then stay the f-ck up off my block, boy
clockin’, boy; had that traffic comin’ non-stop, boy
trappin’, boy; even my trap gear was straight fly, boy
free my dog hamp, ain’t seen him in a long time, boy
d-mn, dog, this street sh-t done made me out a man, dog
remember gettin’ jumped
i held my ground, still ain’t ran, dog
d-mn dog, gunshot’s ringin’, another man down
pimp sh-t, talk a b-tch straight up out her pants
(p-ssy n-ggas don’t get no p-ssy, n-gga)
fly sh-t, clean n-gga, never on that bum sh-t
she ain’t tryin’ to f-ck then get the f-ck up out my truck, b-tch
[hook: young roddy]
hood n-gga, for the record, i don’t give a f-ck, b-tch
[bridge: young roddy]
whole hood, we some hot n-ggas
my n-gga milly mill, we some hot n-ggas
my cousin [?] we some hot n-ggas
my brother [?] we some hot n-ggas
my n-gga t stone, we some hot n-ggas
my n-gga super stan, we some hot n-ggas
my cousin lil’ chris, we some hot n-ggas
on some 31st sh-t, we some hot n-ggas
fly sh-t, clean n-gga, never on that bum sh-t
she ain’t tryin’ to f-ck then get the f-ck up out my truck, b-tch
[hook: young roddy]
hood n-gga, for the record, i don’t give a f-ck, b-tch
[outro: young roddy]
whole hood, we some hot n-ggas
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