Lyrics:
independent and my flow is too buttery
I just been sharper than cutlery
Only one person that's cuffing me
Admiral Smoker the gas in my custody
Babygirl want it
section got
Smokers coming to get it
Trap booming off the hinges now
My friends ain't being friendly
Gangster nigga
Old bitch been on my dick now niggas
then ya might get popped
I say Jack be nimble, and Jack be quick
But if ya want some of this, ya gotta suck Jack dick
Now ha ha ha ha, all you wannabe
and give my smoker the change
That nigga flexin', VVS every stone in the chain
Gold body, my jeweler, he black mummy me
I be all in these bitches' stomach
counting the big stack
Yellow-gold chains and the diamonds are black
Jack me? Nah you don't wanna do that
Anytime you see me wearing a glove
Boy Better
that white bitch, cocaina have you seen her?
I got pounds of keisha
Keys of the coca
Voted number one D-Boy by the fiends and the smokers
Dope
out the gym in the kitchen
The smokers not liking the taste (not likin' that)
Droppin' the coupe with vanilla extract in the Pyrex (I got it)
And try
I'll snap your arm in a pretzel and jack on your car rental
And stab you in the back if I could with a sharp pencil
Honey you aren't special, just
chain and the diamonds are black
Jack me? Nah you don't wanna do that
Anytime you see me wearing a glove
Boy Better Know I ain't coming to fight like Jet
an MC's title
Get chopped in your top lip with a vinyl
Jack an MC for the R1 cycle
Man get shook on Skepta's arrival
Go on then, Go on then, draw for
where the ribbon at
In the sky I can write like Jack Kerouac
I can say anything, it don't even have to match
I can wear anything, it don't even have
really be a pain in the ass
Matter fact, fuck that, pull out your jack real fast
Real shit my nigga
Now glance at the keypad
This that mind boggling
nights in the trap
Now I'm in a new whip counting the big stack
Yellow-gold chains and the diamonds are black
Jack me? Nah you don't wanna do that
Some boys begin to drink beer and whiskey
A few begin to smoke marijuana
Jack Daniel's early time, Black Label moonshine
Shoot it down, turn
As-salamu alaykum it's the rap Jack Tatum
I break backs on rap cats who fabricatin'
You're just a worker, why's your boss hatin'?
Talkin' bullshit,
them fiends and lovin my crack, in the front got bud in the back
Who can get more thugga than that?
From hookers and jacks, put the house up, bitch
Worldwide, better grab you an atlas, bonfire lit
Like willie, let's smoke, rack full of ribs in a smoker full of oak
Blackberry brandy off back in a duck
On ya' stadium or TV, with 380 on the EV
I skeet babies on ya breezy
And I ain't' stoppin', Only Jack the Jacob could freeze me
Squeeze me and its bye
and rumble with thugs and hoods that rob for goods
Weed smokers and murderers and relations
My daily operation caucasions hit me wit persuasions
Be all you
a book out called The Emperor Wears No Clothes. The author's name is Jack Herer. It's published by Queen of Clubs, and I think there's ads for it in High
and glocks
I'm not playin, see these guns that I'm sprayin?
Twin sub oozies, can't budge or move me
Nickels stay chubby, smokers never choosy
Don't gotta
home girls what I told you
That's why i bring u back like hesitation and cross overs
If you slide with me, we can find out all
Tricks between us smokers
high days
See, I mean I get high and fuck way
I wanna fuck her on the highway
I turned her into a smoker from a dancer on Saturday ya
And all I can do
All the smokers and the hoes calling my line
State troopers in the back of my nine-nine
Main thing going through the back of my mind
Had to wonder
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