Released: July 22, 2016
Featuring: Curren$y
Songwriter: Tiny C Style
[Curren$y]
Yo, Yo, Jet Life, this Spitta
Check my nigga C-Style out, Long Beach stand up
[Verse: C-Style]
Paid the cost to be the boss, street ties and time
Street sweeper, sweep the block, bitch the world is mine
I'm a hustler and a gangster, I'm supposed to be rich
Rolex wrap the wrist, I'm supposed to be lit
You niggas hating over giela's bitch get off of my dick
And tell your bitch to hop on, tap in with a Crip
AC blasting, speakers bumping, going in for the kill
Sliding up the 405, city boy for real
Do it big from LBC to STL
Back down to ATL, jet setter for real
Long days, sleepless nights, all hustle, no luck
Work hard, live well, nigga ain't no giving up
Thought I was wildin' then, I get these m's ya'll really fucked
On the road to the riches, no time for silly sluts
Same gold around my neck, hopping out the Bentley truck
Streets on lock, I started with a hot diamond
Single parent home, it pushed me to go farther
Name a nigga out my section that go harder
Get Garcia on the phone, tell him we got a problem
Big Meech with the moves, talking all profit
Only niggas getting cash, whole set, we mobbing
And I do this for the ones that really want me to win
Watch them die standing up, when I pull up in the Benz
Got a flight to NY, time to get me some Timbs
I done said it once before, I'll probably say it again
I don't fuck with switch gangs, we could never be friends
Pedal to the metal, full speed ahead to the end
Felt like a life time they thought I'd never get in
Never Die Corporation, only out for the wins
Trying to live my life right, the Devil want me to sin
Long Beach City god, well I'm g's with a [?]
Tiny C out of Boss King, streets know what it is
Streets know what it is
Yo, Yo, Jet Life, this Spitta
Check my nigga C-Style out, Long Beach stand up
[Verse: C-Style]
Paid the cost to be the boss, street ties and time
Street sweeper, sweep the block, bitch the world is mine
I'm a hustler and a gangster, I'm supposed to be rich
Rolex wrap the wrist, I'm supposed to be lit
You niggas hating over giela's bitch get off of my dick
And tell your bitch to hop on, tap in with a Crip
AC blasting, speakers bumping, going in for the kill
Sliding up the 405, city boy for real
Do it big from LBC to STL
Back down to ATL, jet setter for real
Long days, sleepless nights, all hustle, no luck
Work hard, live well, nigga ain't no giving up
Thought I was wildin' then, I get these m's ya'll really fucked
On the road to the riches, no time for silly sluts
Same gold around my neck, hopping out the Bentley truck
Streets on lock, I started with a hot diamond
Single parent home, it pushed me to go farther
Name a nigga out my section that go harder
Get Garcia on the phone, tell him we got a problem
Big Meech with the moves, talking all profit
Only niggas getting cash, whole set, we mobbing
And I do this for the ones that really want me to win
Watch them die standing up, when I pull up in the Benz
Got a flight to NY, time to get me some Timbs
I done said it once before, I'll probably say it again
I don't fuck with switch gangs, we could never be friends
Pedal to the metal, full speed ahead to the end
Felt like a life time they thought I'd never get in
Never Die Corporation, only out for the wins
Trying to live my life right, the Devil want me to sin
Long Beach City god, well I'm g's with a [?]
Tiny C out of Boss King, streets know what it is
Streets know what it is