Pastor - Jag, Tiffany Gouché

Yeah, my guy Morris, oh yeah

Woo, this that Loren Miller shit, yeah

Peep me out

Yeah, niggas laughin', them niggas lookin' quite funny

They saw me chillin' with Meek, I was fat and lookin' quite bummy

Smartest niggas who diss me, them niggas lookin' like dummies

They never thought that they’d see me, I come in lookin' like money

I swear, park the Bentley in the hood and still say what’s up

A nigga dick is worth money, bitches should pay to fuck

Never forget the real, these niggas countin' me out

Like I ain’t spendin' on that, nigga, this shit for bills

But ain’t no fallin', I’m big ballin', my bitches ill

Her dress is fitted, the kicks is killed, she the shit for real

These niggas get on they tough shit, I’ma get the steel and eat

Talkin' Wolfgang Puck shit when they ship the meal

Helen diamonds, I gots the boss on the trip, you know

Grill up the calamari, the lobster sauce for the drip, that’s real

So much money, I feel like I need a posse

I’m killin' you seed, cocky

I’m breaded like DiBiase, it’s JAG

My time comin', it’s the maker

And we just tryna double up that pay stub

The whole world changin', you should shape up

And you can feel my soul when I speak

Speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach

Follow me, yes I’ve got the mess

Let me speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach

Best believe you gon' get that mess

Look, uh, Swizz Beatz' dad told me to stay calm

Black power, dark skin and wavy, I feel like Akon

They approach me like they talkin' to Joffrey, like what you say, bruh?

Prolly kick me out the game for my words, I feel like Dre ma

I was movin' hand to hand, door to door, like Avon

Mama made a great, got her walkin' 'round like she’s Jay’s mom

Yeah, I never look to fail, remember niggas had to eyeball

'Cause I ain’t have no bread, the cops took the scale

I get a deal, I look to sell, these niggas look to tell

Ballin' but I still’d be the coach, it’s like they booked Latrell

I ain’t impressed, talkin' high shit, fly on the jet

Tile the text, tell a bad bitch to lie on her chest

A nigga fly, I leave the brib and land right on the mess

That’s the shit, I kiss her neck and land right on her breasts

Boss move, I got a table 'fore I got in the club

'Cause a nigga drownin' up in money, feel like Pac in the tub

JAG

My time comin', it’s the maker

And we just tryna double up that pay stub

The whole world changin', you should shape up

And you can feel my soul when I speak

Speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach

Follow me, yes I’ve got the mess

Let me speak, ain’t tryna preach, tryna preach

Best believe you gon' get that mess