Jets Over Boston

[Intro: Curren$y (Sammy Adams)] Yeah (Adams) (Yeah) Fly Jets Over Boston Yeah oh We not playing with 'em [Verse 1: Sammy Adams] White picket fence not me I'm on the top floor Roof top city spot looking over all yours (I see ya) Chillin' with a crush I don't really have time for I'm the 3 white keys in C, you're a minor Knew my shit bang when my music hit the highways Found out that hard work pays off like Fridays And, plenty of people do this our age But don't seem to be blowin' like Penelope and Johnny's Sorry, sound so big headed I'm just flowin' no clue where this clouds headed (no way, no clue) Never been addicted to the fame, no star fetish You worried 'bout yours, but we count all of this, uh [Hook: Curren$y] All we gon' do is spit that reals So if you fake then don't come round here Oh you thought that this was your year? There's the door get the fuck outta here I'm not playin, I'm just sayin I'm not playin, I'm just sayin I'm not playin, I'm just sayin I'm not playin [Verse 2: Curren$y] Uh, and when it all come down to it The homie Spitta do his thing you gotta give it to him Refer in 3rd person tell myself about my music You got them screen door lyrics, we can see through 'em You and your team don't get it how you say you doin' You just tryna keep the crowd moving lying to 'em Disrespecting the game and gettin' paid for it Lost sight of what you first got in the game for I seen it all from my stadium seat chair Number 1 rolled OG brand new Old sneaks man what you mean? It's like club life shoppin' in a time machine Kinda light headed in my heavy Chevy Talkin' to my light skinned red bone on my blackberry Headed wherever I haven't been already Fuck all else jets over every [Hook: Curren$y] All we gon' do is spit that reals So if you fake then don't come round here Oh you thought that this was your year? Here's the door get the fuck outta here I'm not playin, I'm just sayin I'm not playin, I'm just sayin I'm not playin, I'm just sayin (straight up) Word to Sam, fool Roll me another one