Jam Lyrics

Lemme tell ya a story about a moolie like me

I used to be a little fat at about five three but

Than I got five five an started getting high

God I swear I hit your reefer all the fuckin time

So lemme get the microphone check I've won two or three

Battles in my life for five or six different reasons

So don't be the seventh mothafucka to go an get me to

Tease the fans with a one on one smack down

Mothafucka act wild, than they wanna ask how

Could you really do it

Like I ain't wanna be the one pursuing

Titties on the stage an fifties in my hands

Pocket full of M&M's plus them rubber bands

Just to jam for the afternoon

Maybe spend a buck or two

Every bodies in line waiting for a cup of proof

Catch me in the back screaming fuck the truth

Delphic roots, let me prove, that

I'm switching from a Glock to a C-Z

Cause I hate the plastic

So if you're stepping to me with that fake shit

Know it's never lasting an I'm asking politely

What the fuck the hype be

There's too many people selling these records

An don't even know how to spite the fact

That I got murderous intuitions

Mixed with quick submissions boxed by the Don

Filtered through the cracks with a little marijuana

An a Asinine attitude, plus a couple of bucks

From a shot that I blew into the fountain of youth

Minus the jewels hanging from the vision

Pot's the only poison that I'm picking infinitely

Until I feel okay to steal your girl an

Crack her like a glow stick

Just to pass her back to bright for you to even joke with

It's hopeless, I'm stoked with dope ness

Fighting this horoscope with, a lot of homies that sniff the snow

When it's cold but I hope that when it's hot

I'll be with some mothafucka's who keep it pushing nonstop an

Just to jam for the afternoon

Maybe spend a buck or two

Every bodies in line waiting for a cup of proof

Catch me in the back screaming fuck the truth

Delphic roots, let me prove, that

A death by a thousand bands may seem deceitful

But Kurt Cobain probably wrote see no evil

Point be there's no limit to how far that people

Will, Go, So

You got to keep it running an make sure

Your thumb ain't up on the prints

As blue as it seems, my visions red

An I feel like getting rich to the point where I'm the prince

Zoinks got a rhyme that fits, anaphylactic shock

With a lime that ticks on the back of your neck

Where the llama spits an I am this

Infamous small town flowa and you know I

Get the hoes going whenever Bo's fro's growing

An I got my white socks, Trinidad I'm on the way

Rose gold on my wrist, all I needs a nice box

Just to jam for the afternoon

Maybe spend a buck or two

Every bodies in line waiting for a cup of proof

Catch me in the back screaming fuck the truth

Delphic roots, let me prove, that

It's like fucking chocolate on vanilla cake

Everybody knows, ya got to make the earth quake

In a way that's never been done before

I just wanna move up out of here and maybe

Buy a bungalow with a coup

Windows tinted, with a

An so I, walk through the sticks with these guns

Up on my waist, smoking in the mirror

Trying to keep a pace and fight the munchies

In a night shift I'm doing more than you would want me too

An I don't give two shits, this is for my pops

Up in the box who couldn't quit sipping liquor

Never been sicker, trying to find a to kick a fast beat

Cause you know Bo, don't ever be concerned

To ask me to keep it on the low

As I approach the scope to cope with this a thousand yard stare

I'm gonna be dropping bombs where the ether be

Killing two birds while I'm stoned prestigiously

The Seagal's see more shit than the crows do

Cause I'm bringing bodies to the coast

Like I'm supposed too an that's east side bitch

On the love of the game I don't need that shit

From a two bid no good fudge packer whose wacker

Than a two dollar bill

Kill me if I'm mistaken but since day one

An identity is something a mothafucka would kill for

So why hate on what some else has worked an built towards

Who gives a fuck about whose got who

Only thing you should give a fuck about is if I got you

In my sights mothafucka