Testo della canzone Jet Fuel (Lil' Kim), tratta dall'album 9

Jet Fuel - Lil' Kim

Thinking that I fell off, you got me fucked up (Got me fucked up)
I got friends, I got shooters, they gon' bust, bust (They gon' bust)
Think I'm pretty, why your mans, he wanna fuck, fuck (He wanna fuck)
He call me Wednesday 'cause I'm his crush, crush (I'm his crush)
Queen bitch, rich forever, you got me fucked up (You got me fucked up)
Ridin' round, twenty P's, in the truck, truck (In the truck)
Y'all niggas fucking MILFs, I'm a motherfucker (I'm a motherfucker)
They say, "You still live in a mansion?" I'm like yup, yup (Yeah)

Bitch, this ain't no glow for me, I'm trappin' dope-ally (Ayy)
I got pounds of that purple weed, it look like potpourri
Flyest bitch in the room, you lil bitches can't fuck with me
And I'm drowning in this money, ain't no fucking boat for me (Yuh)
A1 all the time 'cause I'm fucking saucy
Kim K riding shotgun, please, I'm fucking bossy
Ol' boy say he love me, but his shorty hatin' on me
Oh, lil homie ballin', but I'm way too out his league

Yeah, ooh, forty glizzy on me, but it ain't shy
Like Marie Callender, bitch, we sellin' pies
Breakin' bitches, can't be mobbin' I got ties
Hundred pounds of OG, we let it fly
Please don't bring me 'round your friend 'cause I'ma hit that
Thought it was sweet until I broke the bitch like a Kit-Kat
It's money in the mattress, I be fucking up a check
I don't sleep on the paper, so she don't fuck with the rest

Thinking that I fell off, you got me fucked up (Got me fucked up)
I got friends, I got shooters, they gon' bust, bust (They gon' bust)
Think I'm pretty, why your mans, he wanna fuck, fuck (He wanna fuck)
He call me Wednesday 'cause I'm his crush, crush (I'm his crush)
Queen bitch, rich forever, you got me fucked up (You got me fucked up)
Ridin' round, twenty P's, in the truck, truck (In the truck)
Y'all niggas fucking MILFs, I'm a motherfucker (I'm a motherfucker)
They say, "You still live in a mansion?" I'm like yup, yup (Yeah)

I gotta, you know these niggas they gon' call for me
I don't talk for free, let Georgie, Ben and them talk for me (Woah, woah)
I don't gotta cut my old school, he gon' whip that four for me (Skrrt, skrrt)
Got a goon that'll kill for me (Brrr)
Call that hood chivalry (Ayy)
And the clique keep going (Where?)
Up, up and we going (Gone)
Like Siamese, they joined (Yeah)
To the plate, filet mignon (Ayy)
'Till my new car hit high speed (Skrrt, skrrt)
'Cause bitch car be foreign (Yeah)
I'm in a new city, like I'm tourin' (Ayy)
Abracadabra, get it going (Louis)

Oh, forty glizzy on me, but it ain't shy
Like Marie Calendar, bitch we sellin' pies
Breakin' bitches, can't be mobbin' I got ties
Hundred pounds of OG, we let it fly
Please don't bring me 'round your friend 'cause I'ma hit that
Thought it was sweet until I broke the bitch like a Kit-Kat
It's money in the mattress, I be fucking up a check
I don't sleep on the paper, so she don't fuck with the rest

Thinking that I fell off, you got me fucked up (Got me fucked up)
I got friends, I got shooters, they gon' bust, bust (They gon' bust)
Think I'm pretty, why your mans, he wanna fuck, fuck (He wanna fuck)
He call me Wednesday 'cause I'm his crush, crush (I'm his crush)
Queen bitch, rich forever, you got me fucked up (You got me fucked up)
Ridin' round, twenty P's, in the truck, truck (In the truck)
Y'all niggas fucking MILFs, I'm a motherfucker (I'm a motherfucker)
They say, "You still live in a mansion?" I'm like yup, yup (Yeah)



Credits
Writer(s): Philip Antonio Thomas, Malcolm Mccormick, Steve Lacy, Christopher Lane, John Macgillivray, Dacoury Natche, Daniel Hardaway
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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