Napa

[Verse 1] Yeah Line the garbage can up with them raps cause you trash Ass shots Rhymes like that on the wrong block could get your ass shot I'm from the era, my big homie had the 8 ball letters I had the Polo golf sweater Long sleeves and shorts go together Argyle socks, kicks may vary My selection too motherfucking heavy Baby had the slip on Vans she slipped into my Chevy Outside when I arrived she was already ready We riding 'round high, with fetti on our minds Her mind just like mine, we got dollar sign eyes She want ride, I drew a map to the treasure Money beyond measure, put our hustle together Betray me never my hoes gon' have to watch us ball forever My new bitch so bad my other ones want me to share her 9-11 Porsche Carrera floating like a ferry Out in Napa Valley drinking wine and smoking cherry Yeah One time for my home boy Berner Jet Life, Jet Life Weed and Instrumentals 3