[Intro: Hitman]
3 a.m., my n***a, you know what I'm saying?
Shout out all my followers on Twitter
And sh**, my n***a, PT just dropped
Shout out to anyone ready to cop
Look
[Verse 1: Hitman]
Fresh off that Plain Target
Early as hell, like 8 in the morning
Jet lag, my ex mad, won't mention her when I'm recording
Just dying of boredom, my time to sort 'em
Want Hitman, still can't afford him
Just roll my weed and I smoke
Yo' sh** comedy, no joke
So much flow off in my head, I'm off top; get it, no roof
With my girl down since '08, got that sh** tatted in too
So yeah, it's real far from brand new
You can't hang if you can't shoot
k** yo' a**, chunk the deuce
And bring your body back for proof
[Verse 2: Jet 2]
Wax on, wax off
That's an old a** quote
Mr. Miyagi bought Plain Target
Then he took a screen shot and then uploaded it
Watch how our career unfolds
Thank the fans and then beat the odds
Going platinum one week from now
Imagine that, I can dream can't I
Took a step and y'all made it happen
Hitman was my captain rapping
We were like the Jackson 5
Except Hitman and Jet Jackson
Started off, on call
Got promoted, never quit the job
Working at k**ing instrumentals overnight
You can call that graveyard
[Verse 3: Hitman]
Look, confidence on max
While my mind on Jane, Mary
Ball in my hands, we good
Down that hill son came Keri
As if there's any other choice
I'm who baby momma shall marry
Drop the album, s** don't stop
ITunes dot com, go cop
Bang Nelson, that Scorpio
What I like, that Gatorade
Y'all n***as ain't sh**; only sh** my haters say
Now dig your grave, dive in it
Good kid, mad women
I'm past the mic, not past the b**hes
And all my hoes fly as witches
[Verse 4: Jet 2]
Suit sweet, that sh** was made to fit
We top the fashion charts, 'cause our Taylor swift
As Suzuki and we almost famous
And our aim is better than that cookie
Remember back when I was eating Dorsey noodles
Fast forward, now I'm getting love from cougars
Back when I couldn't pull myself off the strings
Felt like all them cuties had me under voodoo
Now we making records
Breaking records, break that curse
Them girlies hot, Jamaican peppers
In the tenth grade rapping Sippie Cup to Ms. Estes
Who knew we'd make it this far
I wish somebody tell her
[Verse 5: Hitman]
Look, you n***as need to quit
My job easier when y'all spit
Come in my zone with that sh**
I'll have yo' chick serve me, no tips
Serve me those lips, turn me on
We just f**ed, now pics in my phone
Ease yo' mind, baby we gone
Yeah, we f**ed to one of my songs
Ooh, you bad girl, you s**y
Lil' private lesson, come test me
On my bed, oh my yeah
That sh** look like we wrestling
Now catch phrase, hoes wet
Off kush and Moet
I turn up and turn necks
Fresh out the stu with my n***a Jet
[Verse 6: Jet 2]
And that be how we do it
Started off the underdogs
We switched positions, kama sutra
Had 'em waiting for that Thursday night just like a college student
Trying to party all weekend just 'cause we just dropped that new sh**
I'm excited, aren't you?
So excited I can fly
If I just drank a cup of water of tears of joy from my eyes
And I'll probably jump off a cliff if a big ol' booty was peer pressure
Let's just hope she didn't jump first, 'cause I've got wings, b**h