Shad Da God – Fresh Off Da Jet lyrics

[Verse 1: Shad Da God]
Shad!
I was on the plane eatin’ salmon (damn, mmm!)
Seven-fifty-seven just landed (errr!)
Pit stop
Hit a house on [?]
Gotta go, go and pick up my cannon (that’s right!)
Next stop lean, gotta get off in the city
Making plays in a downtown building (that’s real!)
I swear the [worst in the cell?], no worries
Then ride ‘round this mo’fucka chillin’ (I’m coolin’!)
Yea, I’m twenty-four seven in the damn mix
That mean I’m twenty-four seven gettin’ cake bitch (get money, ho!)
I keep the Hu- to the –blot on my damn wrist ([?])
I’m smokin’ (self-made?) magic on the day shift (gas!)
Y’all niggas really [?] y’all pastries (y’all lame!)
The way I see it, [and out here no hatred?] (the way I see y’all!)
Y’all thought I was on vacation (what?)
But nigga I was on pay-cation


[Hook: Shad Da God]
Look
I’m fresh off that jet
In the hood, fuckin’ around with my partners
I’m fresh off that jet
Ridin' 'round with drugs, but I ain't no doctor
I’m fresh off that jet (fyoom!)
Got hoes ringin' my phone (prrr!)
If they ain't talkin’ bankrolls (hello?), I hit the side button on them hoes (haha!)


I come up on checks
I thank the Lord for this game (thank you!)
I thank the Lord for my momma (thank you!)
‘Cause she ain’t raised no lame
I’m fresh off that jet
Nigga that’s how I fly I be (I’m fly!)
I’m fresh off that jet
Nigga that’s how high I be (I’m geeked!)
I’m fresh off that jet

[Verse 2: Shad Da God]
(Yo, you can leave now, I just landed – Delta)
Yea, YSL, what you smell, bitch? We some playas
Niggas tryin’ to talk about money, like Da God ain’t come out with that
Shorty bend it over, try and let me see the ass
She could probably make a nigga [skin off the rack?]
Shit, only if a nigga wasn't pimpin'
Only if a nigga wasn’t pimpin'
I got ‘em shoo’d like they workin’ at Wendy’s
They ain’t hard, they better catch a nigga slippin’ (no!)
I be in the Benz with the V12 on the side in the back
You could probably catch a nigga dippin' (skrrt!)
I ain’t send the [cock on the run?], it don’t work
I said, I ain’t got time for these bitches (no time!)
How you know you better come up on some money, lil’ nigga
‘Cause my left and my right hand itchin’ (I can feel it!)
Streets like playin’ baseball, and I'm pitchin'
We be on adventure, bands in a tan Expedition
Work spot, liquor store, make them bands get missin' (they gone!)
I'm on the deuce o’ the syrup and a liter of the Crush, (I’m leanin’!) I'm pissin'
Shad!



[Hook: Shad Da God]
Look
I’m fresh off that jet
In the hood, fuckin’ around with my partners
I’m fresh off that jet
Ridin’ ‘round with drugs, but I ain’t no doctor
I’m fresh off that jet (fyoom!)
Got hoes ringin’ my phone (prrr!)
If they ain’t talkin’ bankrolls, I hit the side button on them hoes (hello?)

I come up off checks
I thank the Lord for this game (thank you!)
I thank the Lord for my momma (thank you!)
‘Cause she ain’t raised no lame
I’m fresh off that jet
Nigga that’s how I fly I be (I’m fly!)
I’m fresh off that jet
Nigga that’s how high I be (I’m geeked!)
I’m fresh off that jet


[Verse 3: Shad Da God]
Yea, take off
Yea, jet fuel when we coppin’, gas life when we poppin’
I ain’t have shit to do Saturday, I smoked an ounce of weed and went shoppin’
Then I gave Benihana a lil’ visit (Beni!)
Shrimp, scallops and lobsters
That seafood be hittin’ (‘ey look!)
That seafood be hittin’ (it hittin’)
Look baby, this Creed cologne be smellin’ good
But still we be shitty (I’m sittin’ on it?)
[Bein’?] fucked around with the bankroll out
My partner say I’m trippin’ (why you trippin’, boy?)
Them eleven rounds prolly wasn’t ‘nough, but I got these extensions
I remember I was just fifteen with them forties in the engine (for real!)
This what’s goin’ on in Atlanta, we done watched way too much Tony Montana (too much!)
I ain’t even talked about the baking soda (uh-uh!)
Bet you gotta keep your arm on the hammer (better keep it!)
It’s a big, big risk, it’s a gamble
Just fuck around where I’m from (from the South!)
And you better keep your ass woke (say what?)
Ain’t no such thing as no alarm



[Hook: Shad Da God]
Look
I’m fresh off that jet
In the hood, fuckin’ around with my partners
I’m fresh off that jet
Ridin’ ‘round with drugs, but I ain’t no doctor
I’m fresh off that jet (fyoom!)
Got hoes ringin’ my phone (prrr!)
If they ain’t talkin’ bankrolls, I hit the side button on them hoes (hello?)

I come up off checks
I thank the Lord for this game (thank you!)
I thank the Lord for my momma (thank you!)
‘Cause she ain’t raised no lame
I’m fresh off that jet
Nigga that’s how I fly I be (I’m fly!)
I’m fresh off that jet
Nigga that’s how high I be (I’m geeked!)
I’m fresh off that jet