Curren$y, The Alchemist, Freddie Gibbs - Scottie Pippens lyrics

Yeah yeah
Where haven't we
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
You should be rollin' up by now yeah
Go get your lighters (Ugh)

Showin' no signs of lettin' up
Still kick you in the head like I think
You on the verge of gettin' up
No mercy, Cobra Kai, Cobra Commander
Deadly, venom-spitting niggas just
A salamander i'm living a life worthy
Of capturing on camera, documented
How one of the last live ones did it
How I rolled up in the drop
How I rolled up that sticky
How I rolled with them women, elegant player
No simpin' how I fucked 'em to sleep
How I rolled up out the
Building when I was finished, keep it G
Them niggas not original
They muh'fuckin' House of Mirrors
Not quite the image
I'm on that Popeye spinach
Mama mai tai sippin'
She love a square nigga, but now
She tryin' somethin' different
Windy City Bulls, Mitchell & Ness
Wool jackets, some sweats
And Scottie Pippens
My description: high off that fuzzy
Green prescription
Lyin' if I sayin' that I isn't
If you lookin' for that nigga, i is him
All eyes in this direction
A burden and a blessing

Yeah, yeah ugh
For sure jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life
Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

Ugh, reporting live from the devil's palace
(yeah) breakfast, had two titties
Two blunts and a turkey bacon sandwich (Yuh)
Two seasoned eggs and grape jelly
My hoes stay ready (Ugh)
Pop that pussy then peeled off
In my Pontiac on Pirellis '82 edition
Spotless Bonnie squattin' on sixes (Ugh)
Rather be countin' stacks than
Stuck in the county, washin' the dishes
(Nah) or washing drawers in the pen
(Nah) got two zones of soft and some Hen'
I had go pay the correct correctional
Officer to walk 'em in (On them)
Bail money on deck, come at my neck (yeah)
Bless that boy 'cause that same place
Him test is where he slept
I issue eternal rest
Sign up and be a subscriber (yeah)
The price of life got so high that
I must make sure I stay higher
Stay with the purp out of pee-zo
Stay smackin' these geekers' needles
Stay runnin' the rock just like I
Play quarterback for the Eagles
Randall, Donovan, or Michael
Fore I picked up this mic
I was hittin' licks with some Lords
And did dirt with plenty Disciples
I'm gangbang affiliated
(Ugh) , federal-investigated, self-educated
All my co-conspirators catchin' cases (yeah)
I dropped straight out of college
And I majored in home invasion
Believe, I got the balls to clear
Up all of my altercations
Leave faces with alterations
The closed-casket console (yeah)
Tryin' to make a million dollars
Fuck a million downloads
But, if that equal the same
Then slice that up and give me my change
I made a lane up in this game
So niggas got’ remember the name:
Gangsta Gibbs, ho! Two bitches
Cooking in the crib, ho
(yeah) still push a bucket, but I
Ride it like a Benz, ho
(yeah) tryna find a bridge ho
To slangin' raps from slangin' weight (Ugh)
Said that Fred the new-age Brad, bitch
Call me Baby Face Killa

Ugh, ugh