Lyrics:
there was a boy named Jake, cotton farmer in Alabama
Now, this man named Jake, he had twenty nine slaves
Only three wives though, that's pretty good for
number for the souls under the heavens
Because I disrespected reverend confessions of my presence
Life lessons with a message, protracted by the most high
This is a public service announcement
Sponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records
"Fellow Americans, it is with the utmost
nothing, nothing gon' save us now
Well, there's broken silence
By thunder crashing in the dark (crash in the dark)
cnd this broken record
Spin endless
[Chorus]
[Black Child + Charli Baltimore]
My nigga Ja sold more records then a {O.G.}
Ty flyin by in 'Lac truck like a {O.G.}
And Gotti's dough's
Indeed truly we are the mighty mighty BDP posse
This is our fourth album and we're still not takin' no shorts
Yeah, ha hah!
On the wheels
has been waiting
My soul anticipating your love, your love, your love
Ladies and gentlemen,
I have the pleasure to present on my album
Mr. Dizzy
And that's really what caused Roswell
Undercover operatives workin' for COM 12
Disguised as a nigga signed with a record deal
Lyrically I'm off scale
broke and I couldn't have it
Uh, swipe that piece of plastic
Rode around Nashville for three hours
Listenin' to beats, waitin' for the magic
Swung by
classic rock there on the radio
And it was blowing my mind
And it was all the records no one wanted
Now so they were easy to find
So I started getting LPs
you off
Broad, with the cause (yeah) bitch on a mission
Keep them niggas by they nuts while you hoes be dick kissin
Missing the game, damn bitch it's
didn't know where my life was going
Now Fast forward 10 years to my life today
You'll see a man on the mic that's living day by day
I'm just paving
you're living for
Really it was that and Dev, that was all you had
Paying rent by engineering other rappers at the pad
Barely getting by, hella broke,
in one take
All of those were in one take, but
I Just Wanna has been iterated on a whole bunch of times
It's almost done
We have to record the harmony
smoke
Putting my talents to work so we dine with fine china and feast more
When I was 14 I had learned to record and red button had me sold
Went from no
embarrassed, you're a threat to mankind
That's a lie
You know what my records is about, man
You know how much money we get, man, come on
(You're a liar)
Me
could he be talkin' 'bout?
I been stayin' outta trouble, shit I bin on the couch
You were workin' on the album, I was listenin' now
Then Doug called,
will live forever, my fame will be maintained
Now some can't feel this, and some feel can't that
But all can feel a track that's produced by Battlecat
So
own record label and put myself on blast
The album was independent, it was just for the streets
I sold a one thousand copies in my first fuckin' week
and diss you
Everyone saw me on the last album cover
Holding a pistol, something far from a
Lover, beside my brother, s-c-o-t-t
I just laugh 'cause no one
be the best grime artist
Even if I made an album
With a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kris Kross
Make a man know that I'm not
I'll beat your weak muffin
Decease you easily
I wanna tell you a story about when I was 8
Used to get beat and battered by the kid's that was in my
No writers block words come To me abundantly
New albums drop with that Same old redundancy
I can flop as myself fake ain't Fun 2 me
Back in the day
of you
Yo swag looking rusty you should prolly stop at a Jiffy lube
Whole gang animals, met 'em by the county zoo
We like causing chaos like the city
.jpg/300px-The_Blind_Boys_of_Alabama_Cosmopolite_2018_(202624).jpg "The Original Five Blind Boys of Alabama")
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