Curren$y - J.E.T.S. lyrics

[Trademark Da Skydiver] I think I'm Trademark, Da Skydiver Locked in a co*kpit like a jet fighter I'm rollin super doobies, pa** me my lighter Smokin sour every hour I can't get no higher I said im Trademark, Da Skydiver Locked in a co*kpit like a jetfighter Im rollin super doobies, pa** me my lighter Paper planes every hour I can't get no higher Let us do our thang It's Jets over everythang We got the sh** on lock like cell blocks and sing sing Fly kicks, heavy bling Im married to the game The money is the wedding ring Call me peter parker im in love with mary jane Super doobies on deck, pa** me the flame n***as jumpin ship they b**hin up and switching lanes You know who you are I don't have to say yo name Cold captain of this jacking not aloud on this plane So get it right, homie, we are not the same I live that Jet life, you just livin lame I get the cash and bash word to my n***a Dame Im on bubble like 'caine over an open flame Jet set in the building, f** who else came The shots fired from a silencer im taking aim And rappers out like im at the shooting range Im like a stack of hundreds, you just some loose change I think im Clark Kent or maybe Bruce Wayne Nah. more like Harvey Dent or Dr. Strange T.M.S the S.V. who gon stop my reign? [Curren$y] I think Im Cheech, I think Im Chong I got my Weed, I got my Bong Livin in the fog Don't know what goin on But I dont give a f** Long as my money long I think I'm doughboy on my front post 63' Impala in my driveway Saints gold Sittin low, though im higher up Diggies cup, crispy chucks, spittin tough n***a what?? yo' records stuck b**hes don't listen to yo stuff They with the jets, we in the cut Settling for less that ain't for us Suppress the hate in yo blood, makin Ya'll lookin like girls Poodles can't eat with the pits, b**h it's just a doggy dog world Too clean to be f**ed with Supreme like a Cutla** MC Hammer, you can't touch it Better use some gloves or somethin' Far too potent to be smoked with Them holsters I dont know them Snickelfrits them b**hes, not official Jets b**hes Im just sittin cool whippin Twistin green treat Christmas too so many sweet wrappers up ima need a couple feelings Im bout my roof pealin No tornado took my ceiling Its in the trunk shang monk Belly best, C-Note