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