Yeah, Jets Fool, Pilot Talk nigga,
Everybody around this bitch got money,
We ain't never gon run outta weed, yeah, look upHolla a mountain out
Build a villa in it, pimp that's what I'm talkin' bout
Uh, Closed minded lil' children, I write my way to a million,
Lookin' out the plane windows
Fuck around get popped like a collar
For slippin' in my city get bitten, chewed, swallowed
Fool, what you think you like me
Your idol and your rival I be
Holdin' the title with the precision of a hunter's rifle
Shots fired, the forest too quiet, trees ignited
Fall back baby girl let me get high chick
Eagle droppings, fly shit, who gon' stop him
On the grind I am like a quarterback attackin'
Defensive linebackin' homie who gon' block 'emTearin' through the city
Snatchin' bitches top of the building
King Kong ain't got shit on me
25-8 goin' 8 for the cake nigga
King Kong ain't got shit on me
Wanna be pilots, get swatted out the sky around I
King Kong ain't got shit on me
Larger than life, they hate me because they ain't me
King Kong ain't got shit on meYea, came up, put it down for my set what I did Jets nigga
Founder of a flier society raisin the partition
So the driver won't bother me
Women wishin' for a position on either side of me
Hopin' for a free ride to the top with me
Spendin' my cheese, smokin' my broccoli
Dressed neat, left the hotel suite sloppy off the chopper tree
Upstate New York, Woodstock, Socrates
The view from my rockin' chair you would not believe
A million miles from New Orleans,
Left the key to the city
With my brother now I'm comin' back for it
Songwriters
Franklin, Shante / Willis, DavidPublished by
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.