Back to the Bars (feat. Criss Jrumz, Save Mars, Richie Black)

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Jay London

Jay London (born September 12, 1966) is an American stand-up comic, whose one-liner jokes made him a favorite on NBC's Last Comic Standing. Although he did not win either of the two seasons in which he appeared (Seasons 2 and 3, both in 2004), his humble personality and clean comedy made him a favorite among the show's fans. London was born in The Bronx, but grew up in Flushing, Queens, before moving to Los Angeles in his adult years. He was a boxer and a taxicab driver, among other occupations, before becoming a stand-up comic in the 1980s. more »

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All I do is make melodies
Then use 'em to serenade your mama between her knees
In truth, I’m not poppin' enough but she begged me please
I'm pausing with commas every sixteen to let her breathe
See, I’m more obsessed with the commas than anything
A song will give me dollars and dollars will get me rings
Been the best at rapping, shit prolly since seventeen
Well now your mom's is callin' so pardon me if I sing
Sike
Back to the bars like photographs in the dark
Yeah that’s GRAINz in the building, Jrumz in the getaway car
Finding patterns and loops under these urban night stars
And the way they pollute (Shit) thought I needed a straw
Stay sippin', I got the juice no chess pieces involved
Unless we talking bout war and the piece is in the third drawer
I don’t aim to please or prove myself, no not at all
But to keep you nodding your head and never nodding it off
Yeah never nodding it off, only plot is to floss
Any problem then y'all gone see it come right from the source
You said you got 'em but you ain't got 'em, shit gotta be gone
Yeah life's a bitch and I'm piping, f*ck what you hype in them songs
Went from a slice to a scar, like a knife in the palm
That's when I came with the rain and brought out the light from the storm
They put dirt on my name, I was writing all my wrongs
Laid it out on the page, and faded, they confidence off, I got it
Word to God, I'm a little psychotic
I need literal dollars until my bank account is littered with commas
How could you tell me 'bout to tomorrow, the shit isn't promised
They thinking way too limited while we get it accomplished
You get it, we got it, this ain't hella melodic
Fellas settle for heavy metal, we dead-ed the topic
We take it up another level to get a deposit
If we don't get the credit bet it we get in your pockets
Back to the bars like I did it again
Dropped a couple rhymes, but the message ain’t send
F*ck rappin' for an audience that’s out for my limbs
And stop asking me 'bout content less you funding my shit
Everyone’s a critic, it be the wackest musicians
I’d drop a verse on your track, it’s like I featured you in it
Gave you shots but it’s finished
I pop the trunk leave no witness
No Yankees baseball hat fitted
I got the baseball bat hidden
I'm 'bout to take em back with it
In fact the flow-scoliosis
Go head and make that decision
We quick to split 'em like Moses
Quick to draw like mosaics
But never switchin' like solstice
We’ve been the real since archaic
I play the game like controllers
All I got is my soul
And haters could hold my cojones
I'm so in love with the doe
I'm trying to C notes like I'm Otis
I’m tryna see what the mode is
Maybe we’ll meet in the middle
I got more bars for the quota
But I’ll just tease you a little

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