Grand Piano - Curren$y

Cookin' Soul

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

The Legend of Harvard Blue

As I come through

Uh, play connect the dots in the parking lot with them drops

How many of them cars that you niggas rap about do you really got?

Fugazi artists, y’all so easy to spot from my rooftop party

Where you is not, invite only not for phonies

Bumbling henchmen, lackies, cronies, jabronies

Where only bosses is all my homies

Carrying they own weight, nobody leaning on me

Reach up and got a plate, steak with the seasoning on it

I was hunting while you was sleeping

When you woke up you had to watch me eating

Don’t get mad now

Wish you woulda got up off your ass, huh?

Jet Life, Jet Life, Jet Life

The Legend of Harvard Blue

Every time I come through

Yeah

Stacks is the mission, cash is the target

Jets locked in, heat seeking missiles on it

Make lunch quick out of fools who was once opponents

for ever running up on them

Made men known for laying Pirelli rubbers on the pavement

Italian cars, California weed

Just a New Orleans boy who never quit on his dreams