Lyrics:
[Chorus: x2]
Baby come and go on this jack with me
Come and do some savage thug shit with me
If I die up in this drama
Would you ride for me?
Creepin through the sucka hood man a nigga sure would
Catch a bitch by the back of his knapsack
Slippin on the dope track got a fat ass stack
and a black mask
Drop the fucking task
Down goes the jack ass
Keep my shit cocked cause the cops got a glock too
What the fuck would you do?
Drop them or let em
with the thugs so
You must be on drugs to the head
Go get your ass break down
Broken half lately
I've been feelin' like a motherfuckin' psychopath
ya wack ass
Acting like a jack ass
You're taking up space looking up in my face
And you ain't got the good grace to scream out loud
Take ya sorry ass
(It's Danny G, bitch) ayy, ayy
(Primo Beats on the track) ayy, ayy, ayy
Real Jack Man, twenty-five Pros before ten
Real Scam Man, 25K off four BINs
or bounce splat
Hold that, stop procrastinating nigga and roll that
Get the waste basket crackin out
Get the cock outta your ass and snap outta that fagets
on wock I got issues ran up a bag my solution to the issue
Frost da verb I’m colder than any nigga Or igloo bitch
imma boss ass you ain’t nothing but
And you know
You know
You know (You know)
Where I go, I go
When I’m high in the sky
By myself in the night (You know)
In the words of the great KID
Now who's the king of these rap acts? American Bad ass
They say he's a class act, no wonder he's jabbed at
That's why they put me up in lights and I
Now who's the king of these rap acts? American Bad ass
They say he's a class act, no wonder he's jabbed at
That's why they put me up in lights and I
connectin' the plots
(W.C.)
Move back homie as I pump my Chevy up
Mash and hit the gas
Fly my bandana up outta the window
And left her ass on the smash
Maniac
his ass sprayed
First I hit the weed, hit full of red rum, niggah better give me some
Or O'l make your body numb bitch
I thought you knew it was
yet they callin' me they nigga
Should I get the A.K. and jump like Jack
Or should I just reanimate the mothafuckin' Fac
My name is Spice 1, but I be
ahead and make yo' mama proud.
Jack Frost, fuck it! What is cost?
Who the boss? Flossin' is applesauce.
Dirty third grade. Bought milk
I loved my uncle, god rest his soul
Taught me good, Lord, taught me all I know
Taught me so well, I grabbed that gold
And I left his dead ass there
By
supper
Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the
Stuck in the past, iPod, what the f- is that?
B-boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass
Maybe
the wack, who tryin to bite my style
Take yo ass to da old school
And part your fuckin' eyebrows
I comin' through to
About to get set
So act like WU
And since me and Tune had Viacom shook
I shoulda got a real-ass pirate to do the hook
Maybe Jack Sparrow maybe Peter Pan's nemesis
My power's limitless
you are fond of hunting there's no place that can compare
You may not bag a lion or a tiger or a bear
But if you want a jack-ass there are plenty
say you're so fake
And as the days go by, you can't forget
The way I make you feel like shit
MC's like you, I've seen 'em before
You keep
goods back
I rap for writers that pack strap to rhymers that backpack
To 25 to lifers that jack MAC
We movin' ratchets, no Kat Stacks, it's magic
The way
me so well, that I grabbed that gold
I left his dead ass there by the side of the road, yeah
pockets
So watch yo back when a nigga like see doin' bad
I'll do a solo jack and dey a never find yo ass
Ra ta tat tat tat tat is the sound of my
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