On My Way lyrics

[Intro]
(Jet Files, fool) End of the Block production
(Jet Files, fool) That’s what this is
(Them bomb-ass tapes) Jets, fool
Spitta n*gga from the the the Jets (Fool, I drop them bomb-ass tapes)
And I so love my set (Fool, I drop them bomb-ass tapes)
Where haven't we been yet (Fool, I drop them bomb-ass tapes)
On the way the next check (Jet Files)
The, the, the Jets
And I so love my set (Fool, I drop them bomb-ass tapes, n*gga)

[Verse 1]
Yeah, I don't rap on beats, I spit pictures, n*gga
Spit that real, and kill these fictitious n*ggas
Ya'll don't want any part of Spit Vicious, n*gga
Simple beats, complex lyrics; I give it to ya
Just as an onion has layers to it
Different phases to my music, let me take you through 'em
I ain't a killer, but the beat made me do it
Eliminate the fake to see the loot flip, Jet's high
We lookin' down on the top
No matter what the time it's four-twenty on my clock
Won't let you n*ggas disgrace hip-hop on my watch, not hardly
It ain't that type of party fool, I'm sorry
Parker Brothers style, how I play these b*tches
Suffer from smoke inhalation, got they face all in a jet engine
Tryna get a wiff, no, smell somethin' I wrote in my notebook
And overdose, because it's too dope
[Chorus]
(And I'm...yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta, n*gga, from the the, the Jets and
It's not a secret I so love my set
But where haven't we been yet? (And I'm, yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta n*gga from the, the, the Jets, and
It's not a secret I so love my set
And b*tches no the planes (Got it)

[Verse 2]
Exercise for the mind, mixtapin' like a athlete in the gym
n*gga I'm trainin'
My home-girl up in the hotel room waitin'
Didn't get down like that, we just started f*ckin' lately
Rare sh*t, so crazy, straight up
Straight jacket action baby, but wait up
I never let it get me down, 'cause my spirit's rasin'
To the point I'm grounded but steady levitatin'
Most n*ggas was sleep, but they wakin' and bakin'
Finally catchin' up the music the Jets was makin'
Wack n*ggas gotcha gassed, smellin' like a station
My homey once told me, everybody ain't gonn' make it
Believe he was taken, 'cause truth was at the root of his statement
From the air to the pavement behind paper
From the air to the pavement behind paper
From the air to the pavement behind paper
[Chorus]
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta, n*gga, from the the, the Jets, and
It's not a secret I so love my set
But where haven't we been yet? (And I'm, yeah)
On the way to the next cheque, it's
Spitta n*gga from the, the, the Jets, and
It's not a secret I so love my set
And b*tches no the planes (Got it)

[Outro]
Got it
Huh
Jets Files, fool
I drop them bomb-ass tapes
n*gga, I said
Fool, I drop them bomb-ass tapes
Jet Files, fool