(Verse 1)
Yellow paper, legal pad
Blueprinting these criminal plans
So simple in the right hands
Should it go cool as a fan
Long as we keep it in the fam
Grinding with outsiders will only provide us
Providers with more problems
Cats want see me locked in, boss
Concrete but only palm trees around me
My rolling hand in my shirt
Like let me roll back my sleeves back
Diamond breeze, middle of the night
Sung that bi**h to sleep
Woke up next to me
And figured she was still up in them dreams
Dirty money, keep them whips clean
Crooks for the whole team
Lyrics is on a triple beam
Another tape, another key
A frozen eskimo ain’t cold as me
Ni**a, come to me
(Chorus)
Still at it, Jet Set mathematics
In the city of Saints, stunters and gun clappers
Still at it, Jet Set mathematics
In the city of Saints, stunters and gun clappers
Still at it, Jet Set mathematics
Still at it, Jet Set mathematics
(Verse 2)
Still in traffic, sports cars doing magic
My doors open backwards
My homegirl an actress
Silver screen bad bi**h
She brought her homegirls through
We call that batting practice
I’m in the matte black six
100 Benz mashing
In…with gases
And bi**h, I’m never pa**ing
Music is the crankest
Moving like them paid gift
I put 2 in
You best believe I’m bringing 4
Bad bi**h huh
(Repeat Chorus)