Spitfire - Tyga

I’m a young, 24 year old ni*ga

I come to take this game and bring it to me

We gon' be here

Ain’t no fly by night ni*ga

We gon' be here two years, three years

I got this sh*t

Wire taps, y’all some grown liars

I’m Julius with Cleo betting on my empire

I’m busy in the jet, like a Spitfire

Grandiose in the house, looking like Granada

I’m pops to your daughter’s daughter

Want my head like Pompeii, the Roman rider

I write you off like a speed infraction

I’m through with all the talking

Your misery got bad company

F*ck all y’all been

It’s A-OK, symbolic

All the s*it I embody

You might get shot but Johnny’s driving nice cars

Tryna park it, don’t you holla if it ain’t my Gualla

Growing up where I’m from, iPhone to get you towed on

Located in bankroll, my niggas weight the dome

The sh*t I’ve waited for ever since Brenda Song

Told you that I’d make-make it home, motherf*ckers

This ain’t no ball game, mad ruckus

More like the Rucker, more like Christchurch, mother

Teresa cash, credit and visas

Not the car, but the passport feature

Need the passport if you’re riding with the as*hole

Tell her no bags, we shopping on tour, freak

We make a nice cold week and if you a*s caught creeping

I’m balanced on the poppers, if I stop won’t tell who dropping

I’m topic of discussion when it’s who young with the money

I’m here, motherf*ckers

I hear my name from the bleachers

But I’m too busy reaching

Looking up to deceased kings

Long live the last king, Martin had a dream

And it’s me

Busy in the jet like a spitfire

Julius built my empire

Y’all some grown liars

Y’all some grown liars

Busy in the jet like a spitfire

Julius built my empire

Y’all some grown liars

Y’all some grown liars