Released: October 6, 2009
Songwriter: Curren$y
Producer: Big Chopps
Yeah, I don't rap on beats I spit pictures nigga
Spit that real and kill these fictitious niggas
Ya'll don't want any part of Spit Vicious nigga
Simple beats, complex lyrics; I give it to ya
Just as an onion has layers to it
Different phases to my music let me take you through 'em
I ain't a killer but the beat made me do it
Eliminate the fake to see the loot flip
JETs high
We lookin' down on the top
No matter what the time it's four-twenty on my clock
Won't let you niggas disgrace hip-hop on my watch, not hardly
It ain't that type of party fool, I'm sorry
Park up on them, style, how I play these bitches, suffer from smoke inhalation
Got they face all in a jet engine
Tryna get a wiff, no
Smell somethin' I wrote in my notebook and overdose 'cos it's too dope
[Hook]
(And I'm...yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta nigga from the the, the JETS and...
It's not a secret I so love my set
But where haven't we been yet?
(And I'm...yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta nigga from the the, the JETS and...
It's not a secret I so love my set
And bitches no the planes... (got it)
Exercise for the mind, mixtapin' like a athlete in the gym
Nigga I'm trainin'
My home-girl up in the hotel room waitin'
Didn't get down like that we just started fuckin' lately
Rare shit, so crazy, straight up
Straight jacket action baby, but wait up
I never let it get me down cos my spirit's rasin'
To the point I'm grounded but steady levitatin'
Most niggas was sleep, but they wakin' and bakin'
Finally catchin' up the music the JETS was makin'
Wack niggas gotcha gassed smellin' like a station
My homey once told me everybody ain't gonn' make it
Believe he was taken
Cos truth was at the root of his statement
From the air to the pavement behind paper
From the air to the pavement behind paper
From the air to the pavement behind paper
[Hook]
...Got it
Spit that real and kill these fictitious niggas
Ya'll don't want any part of Spit Vicious nigga
Simple beats, complex lyrics; I give it to ya
Just as an onion has layers to it
Different phases to my music let me take you through 'em
I ain't a killer but the beat made me do it
Eliminate the fake to see the loot flip
JETs high
We lookin' down on the top
No matter what the time it's four-twenty on my clock
Won't let you niggas disgrace hip-hop on my watch, not hardly
It ain't that type of party fool, I'm sorry
Park up on them, style, how I play these bitches, suffer from smoke inhalation
Got they face all in a jet engine
Tryna get a wiff, no
Smell somethin' I wrote in my notebook and overdose 'cos it's too dope
[Hook]
(And I'm...yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta nigga from the the, the JETS and...
It's not a secret I so love my set
But where haven't we been yet?
(And I'm...yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta nigga from the the, the JETS and...
It's not a secret I so love my set
And bitches no the planes... (got it)
Exercise for the mind, mixtapin' like a athlete in the gym
Nigga I'm trainin'
My home-girl up in the hotel room waitin'
Didn't get down like that we just started fuckin' lately
Rare shit, so crazy, straight up
Straight jacket action baby, but wait up
I never let it get me down cos my spirit's rasin'
To the point I'm grounded but steady levitatin'
Most niggas was sleep, but they wakin' and bakin'
Finally catchin' up the music the JETS was makin'
Wack niggas gotcha gassed smellin' like a station
My homey once told me everybody ain't gonn' make it
Believe he was taken
Cos truth was at the root of his statement
From the air to the pavement behind paper
From the air to the pavement behind paper
From the air to the pavement behind paper
[Hook]
...Got it