DJ Quik, Tai Elton Phillips - Jet Set lyrics

A soft beat got me hard as the street
Pop yo' ass in the teeth
Leave your head in the seat
I moved scum with my sister
'til they snitched on me
Now we run in different
Directions from the CPV
Money don't come back, problems stay forever
Bullets for my nephews
Let 'em perish together
For them I wrote these fuckin lyrics
On the back of a summons
Wishin I had a big brother
Like The Game got hundreds
So I'm flyin my hair out, tryin to air out
Goin callous into my shell I'm
Kickin my care out nevermind my whereabouts
It won't be where family
Like to gank each other and
Only gangbang in the house
Just a post traumatic
Sufferin Hennessy addict
Bufferin won't even help with the static in
My muffin so come and cuff him
I'm slippin into the darkside under the
Influence of my own existance
Like Playa Hamm when he started this ride
Or Shabby and Bull Dog in the Marina
We mack-a-nina sippin colada pinas
You shoulda seen us
When Eric Wright tried to buy me
Out of bondage from Profile
Cause Ruthless had all the style and now
When did it change, I didn't see it runnin
The curb came, I went over tumblin
My last few records you heard
Me sick at the heart, gettin picked apart
By the very people makin me breathe
Now I just leave

You wanna jet set with me
Ain't nothin really here to see
We gon' be steppin off the plane
Stress off your brain
See the world as clear as can be
People need class, you go back to school
I tell you what you need to do
You need to be straight relaxin
Ain't no reaction
To the thangs that's botherin you
- c'mon let's go

My life in a day, I live for the moment
Bein full of focus is my only bonus
I walk around the city with a
Skeptical pair of pessimistic preconception
And niggaz grippin my gonads
And that's only because I know some
Dudes that'll sabotage your food
Cause they'd rather see you breathin
Than to see you leavin passin the buck
They know you wouldn't be mad as fuck
Better to see you fail than to
Be drivin the baddest truck
Hard luck bitches who live right
Next to the liquor sto'
The hazel-eyed beadie smokin bitch eager
To lick 'em low
The yeast-infectin misdirectin lowridin
Lover baby mother
With a mouth like a sailor ready to blow
I work around the clock to
Keep avoidin the ever-present traps
Of niggaz and tramps who see
Me as the on ramp
Who come from mothers who had a
Fetish for cocaine in the 1980's
And thought she raised her crack baby to
Be a lady - you crazy!