[Intro] (Yawns) Long night Think I gave my last hundred to the fuckin' valet, damn Good evening Mr. Jackson I mean good morning, shit Dang
[Verse 1] Uhh, Number four Jordan soles to the floor Steppin' through the elevator door Select a level that I wanna be on One push of a button be gone Doors open in the living room of my home Penthouse I own, I got it on my own When I'm gone engrave that phrase on my tombstone Nigga I'm in the zone, like the 1-3-1 Lookin' down on the super dome gettin super dome New Orleans I roam, I love where I'm from They know where I started they know how far I've come If I said I'mma do it you could consider it done My track record approve it I showed you for seven months Mixtape after mixtape all was solid Google my name and you could read all about it No longer No Limit but a nigga still Bout It No longer Cash Money still got fat pockets
[Hook] Uhh, this is elevator music All we do is ride around and get high too it (x2) All we do is ride around and get high too it That's why we call it the elevator music (Look up it's the jets nigga) This is elevator music Cause all we do is ride around And get high to it (Where haven't we been yet)
[Verse 2] Uhh, a yessir I got my lazy eyes On that prize dime right there I pull up the coupe It's like a pull out a chair Because the girl broke a smile and just sat there Yeah shit happen like that all the time I'm used to it I just take it in strides Split another, keep movin Tie loose ends Burn a couple of frees Chop fan business Burn a pound of haze Moves get made, more funds to raise Niggas wanna get paid, get high, get laid And repeat those steps And in that order everyday My name in these streets My name is my name That shit that I say to remind you niggas Even if you don't see me I'm around you niggas I pound these bitches Dumbfound these critics Just spittin' the shit that I'm really livin' Spitta