Spitfire Lyrics - The Gold Album: 18th Dynasty - Tyga

I'm a young, 24 year old nigga 

I come to take this game and bring it to me 

We gon' be here 

Ain't no fly by night nigga 

We gon' be here two years, three years 

I got this shit 

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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 

Fuck all y'all been 

It's A-OK, symbolic 

All the shit 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 shit I've waited for ever since Brenda Song 

Told you that I'd make-make it home, motherfuckers 

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 asshole 

Tell her no bags, we shopping on tour, freak 

We make a nice cold week and if you ass 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, motherfuckers 

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 

Photos 

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