Flight is back in the trenches, I'm slidin wit all of my bitches
I'm cookin' that shit in the kitchen, look at my wrist man it's whipping
I gotta go clean up the Patek, got zannys and Percs in the attic
I'm hotboxin all in the phantom, I got this bitch lookin asthmatic
I'm off the crown and I'm feeling real royal
I'm from the 6, out the mud and the soil
She want the bread and I know that she spoiled
Think I want pussy but I want that poyo
Never round niggas, Han thinking I'm solo
Neck be so slippery, thinking she oil
Baby be patient, that white gotta boil
Up wit that Reynolds, ain't talking no foil
Promise ain't neva no rackin
95 with the attack, guess imma just be with the sackin
I want that head off top, so you can just stop with the cappin
I'm tryna f*ck with the box, and she do not
Know what I'm packin '
Causing that trouble, she don't have a clue
Claimin she bang, don't know red from the blue.
Stay with eleven, I'm thinking bout who
Nah she with 12, I'm thinking Sanu
F*ck all that talking, we slangin on site
Mixin this dirty up all in my sprite
Yo bitch don't never like callin the plumber cause when pickup, im laying them pipes
Count up them sacks
F*ck what you thank
Yes I'm a savage
Now pour up this drank
After I nut, roll up this dank
I'll be at the bank, with my nigga crank
Talking that shit, you can get hit
Bitch I am lit, more than this wick
F*ck all the drums, we got them sticks
Bitch you my dawg, it's time to sit
Flight is back in the trenches, I'm slidin wit all of my bitches
I'm cookin' that shit in the kitchen, look at my wrist man it's whipping
I gotta go clean up the Patek, got zannys and Percs in the attic
I'm hotboxin all in the phantom, I got this bitch lookin asthmatic
JetFlight - Code Red Lyrics
JetFlight - Code Red Lyrics
Official
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Flight is back in the trenches, I'm slidin wit all of my bitches
I'm cookin' that shit in the kitchen, look at my wrist man it's whipping
I gotta go clean up the Patek, got zannys and Percs in the attic
I'm hotboxin all in the phantom, I got this bitch lookin asthmatic
I'm off the crown and I'm feeling real royal
I'm from the 6, out the mud and the soil
She want the bread and I know that she spoiled
Think I want pussy but I want that poyo
Never round niggas, Han thinking I'm solo
Neck be so slippery, thinking she oil
Baby be patient, that white gotta boil
Up wit that Reynolds, ain't talking no foil
Promise ain't neva no rackin
95 with the attack, guess imma just be with the sackin
I want that head off top, so you can just stop with the cappin
I'm tryna f*ck with the box, and she do not
Know what I'm packin '
Causing that trouble, she don't have a clue
Claimin she bang, don't know red from the blue.
Stay with eleven, I'm thinking bout who
Nah she with 12, I'm thinking Sanu
F*ck all that talking, we slangin on site
Mixin this dirty up all in my sprite
Yo bitch don't never like callin the plumber cause when pickup, im laying them pipes
Count up them sacks
F*ck what you thank
Yes I'm a savage
Now pour up this drank
After I nut, roll up this dank
I'll be at the bank, with my nigga crank
Talking that shit, you can get hit
Bitch I am lit, more than this wick
F*ck all the drums, we got them sticks
Bitch you my dawg, it's time to sit
Flight is back in the trenches, I'm slidin wit all of my bitches
I'm cookin' that shit in the kitchen, look at my wrist man it's whipping
I gotta go clean up the Patek, got zannys and Percs in the attic
I'm hotboxin all in the phantom, I got this bitch lookin asthmatic
I'm cookin' that shit in the kitchen, look at my wrist man it's whipping
I gotta go clean up the Patek, got zannys and Percs in the attic
I'm hotboxin all in the phantom, I got this bitch lookin asthmatic
I'm off the crown and I'm feeling real royal
I'm from the 6, out the mud and the soil
She want the bread and I know that she spoiled
Think I want pussy but I want that poyo
Never round niggas, Han thinking I'm solo
Neck be so slippery, thinking she oil
Baby be patient, that white gotta boil
Up wit that Reynolds, ain't talking no foil
Promise ain't neva no rackin
95 with the attack, guess imma just be with the sackin
I want that head off top, so you can just stop with the cappin
I'm tryna f*ck with the box, and she do not
Know what I'm packin '
Causing that trouble, she don't have a clue
Claimin she bang, don't know red from the blue.
Stay with eleven, I'm thinking bout who
Nah she with 12, I'm thinking Sanu
F*ck all that talking, we slangin on site
Mixin this dirty up all in my sprite
Yo bitch don't never like callin the plumber cause when pickup, im laying them pipes
Count up them sacks
F*ck what you thank
Yes I'm a savage
Now pour up this drank
After I nut, roll up this dank
I'll be at the bank, with my nigga crank
Talking that shit, you can get hit
Bitch I am lit, more than this wick
F*ck all the drums, we got them sticks
Bitch you my dawg, it's time to sit
Flight is back in the trenches, I'm slidin wit all of my bitches
I'm cookin' that shit in the kitchen, look at my wrist man it's whipping
I gotta go clean up the Patek, got zannys and Percs in the attic
I'm hotboxin all in the phantom, I got this bitch lookin asthmatic
Writer: Aaron Perkins, Phillip Holder
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid