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xv - vip in heaven lyrics

[intro] [xv talking]:
yeah. 9th wonder. see i was talking to my home girl jesse and i don’t know why, but…i thought that when i die i’ll take all these platinum plaques and grammys and magazine covers with me and exchange them into heavy dollars or something. little did i know, everybody’s n0body

[verse one] [xv]:
please
valet park the car, take the keys
welcome to heaven, here go your halo and your wings
i gotta show id (why?)
cause everything is changed
and i don’t got young, fresh or fly in my name
i think i’m insane trying to make it off of true sk!ll
when rappers acting like models doing blue steel
and everybody like “my swag is the sh-t.”
what?
i thought swag meant s.tuff w.e a.ll g.et
haha
and now it’s like they the rabbit in the races
long run don’t matter cause we all just want to make it
n-ggas trying to live to be drop dead famous
get a hollywood star, forget my hands and put my face in it
so when i make it to the gate and the stars
tell st. peter i was on all of the blogs
ask for directions an i couldn’t believe it
he said, “boy you need jesus
ain’t no vip in…”

[hook]:
“heaven”
valet parking please
i step in and all the talking cease
back on earth it was all eyes on me
and now i see, there ain’t no vip up in
“heaven”
valet parking please
i step in and all the talking cease
back on earth it was all eyes on me
and now i see, there ain’t no vip up in
“heaven”

[verse two] [jabee]:
i read the bible front to back and i couldn’t find the page
where it said, “get your cash, car and gold chain”
rings, no, check
bling, no wreck
trying to make it into heaven being dope boy fresh
my dougie didn’t work, should’ve super man’d first
tried to stanky leg, can’t bootie doo in church
in church so i give 10% of what i make
took out my ice grill, put it in the offering plate
flight club delay, four minute on sneakers
like i’m going to get into heaven dressed better than jesus
wait, is there a dress code?
dressed to impress soooo
they know i got scrilla
my halo’s made of platinum, wings of chinchilla
i’m fixing up my jeep, i hope god likes spinners
sinners give it all up, god said, “do it.”
needle in hand, trying to put a camel through it

[verse three] [xv]:
so why does everybody act like
we gotta do it big and take this to the afterlife?
the fast life will get you flooring the gas
to make g’s off your single, ignoring your kraft/craft
n-ggas want the fortune so bad, there’s no will
leaving your unfortunate -ss like “no will”
and they ain’t got torches to p-ss
cause they use all of they gas to gas ’em up to think they was ill
they thought they could build
a staircase to see the stairway to heaven
just to make sure it was real
like the tower of babel
a few hundred years after
god struck ’em down and they all became rappers
the kid with the green back pack and i get even
no matter how odd, you find what i believe in
there’s more average joes then superstar stevens
so when i clock out tell ’em we gonna have a meeting up in

- xv lyrics

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