I got stars in the roof of my car, girl
Recognize where you are, girl
Jet Life, this the stoner's world
Low-ride like my OGs who wore them Jheri curls circa '85
Now, my Daytons spin same time I roll around
Talk my shit a lil' bit 'cause I worked hard
Two laps in the parking lot, show my shit off
Bad bitches, please tell them haters stay off my dick
Set bubble like a coffee pot
Them niggas talking so much, but what are they talking 'bout?
Coupe interior, brown leather; the stiching, blueberry muffin
They know I'm finna come up with something
Rap hustling a lil' bit like pack running
Making stacks from it
Racks like where we put the hunting guns at
Black on a Phantom, white on a Ghost
Suede Adidas Campus stepping on your throat, never letting go
Blew a pound and they told you: Go outside to smoke
Haha
Life
Da-da-da da da da
It's Lil Tunechi from New Orleans, lord
With the chauffeur and the car with the two R-uh's, lord
Lived next door to Jenny that went to Beauregard
She broke my virginity, and I love her for it
Friends turn into frienemies, and they come and gone
Cut the check or we gon' cut your fucking bungee cord
Make these bitches jump for joy, make 'em fuck my boys
If they ain't a freakazoid, then they just annoying
This for the smokers and the real ones
Pussies get the dildo, I get the deal done
Back like I left something, Weezy F. Something
Bad bitch 'bout to swallow all my stress for me
Bad bitch stop-and-popping like Steph Curry
Rich nigga laughing at his bills like Bill Murray
Hot potato on the nose of the handgun
Out here dodging handcuffs like a Ram truck
Out here looking handsome, fucking dancers
Tryna see my mansions get expansions
Tryna see my homeboys in they own toys
Kush got my eyes looking like Choing Yoing
Yeah, don't know no better
Dick got the bitch walking like Uncle Fester
And your homie talk aloud 'bout what he gon' do
You know your homie ain't your homie till he bleed on you
You know you never know you love her till she cheat on you
You know you never know your brother till he dethrone you
You know Lil Tunechi been a soldier since T-R-you
Fuck a heated argument, we let the heat argue
P-I-R-you brazy like glue
S-Q-you-A-D wavy like the sea
And Lil' T just told me knock the nigga's brain out
I got a chopper, I bet I can shoot a plane down
Pussy-ass niggas looking for a way out
I tape some kilos to her, put her on a Greyhound
Coming down from Cloud Nine like a raindrop
I'm 'bout to buy a ring the size of a Ring Pop
I got some bitches in bikinis like Baywatch
And we in Carrollton in Chinese kitchen getting takeout
Hollygrove Tune
You dig?
Carrollton Heist, nigga
Spitta, fuck with me
Carrollton Tunechi
I'm gone
