Kunci: A minor•
Verse 1
Am
F
Am
I'm from the East Side section of your area
F
I ain't bullshittin', corners
I be hitting
E
Just the morning edition,
Champagne, orange juice mixing
Fell asleep in the studio,
woke up on a mission
Am
Wall Street wolf, these lil' niggas shook
F
When we walked in the room
They ain't know where to look
result in combat
I don't know who wrote
Am
Youngsters huntin', murdin' for hire,
Trade your life for a
Camaro this summer
E
Ain't nothin' where I come from
But I come up quite different
Spitting that zigzag, raw raps, spit shit
Am
Major wrist get you that big bag
that motherfuckin' toe tag
E
But we the Taylor Gang, Jet Lyfe,
us high- flyers never die
Dm
It's 20 inch BMX bikes,
E
Am
stomp pegs, grip pliers
Now me and Pittsburgh
Slim is both post drivers
Sit by, talkin' shit about us
E
But you need to get like us
'Cause you know our shit
is always tighter
Dm
Always flyer, we just 2009- ed you
Verse 2
Am
Uh, no pain, no gain, I treat 'em the same
F
If it ain't my strain, it ain't in my brain
E
The boss, the man, nothing in between
Am
My car go fast, wash it in the rain
F
My chain is cold, diamonds in my rings
E
I get respect not because of fame
You hate, you lame, I don't entertain
Am
My shoes, my fit, cost a little change
F
She was your chick, now she with the gang
E
Just rolled a zip, now I need a flame
Dm
E
Well known, it don't gotta be explained
Am
My Benz, or I'm hopping out a plane
F
Jet Lyfe the gang, all of it the same
E
New crib, put our logo on everything
Plus worldwide, they know our name
F
Jet Taylor, smoke the best flavors
Outro 1
E
Am
E
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