J.R. Writer, Fred Money - Put You On lyrics
[J.R. Writer, Fred Money - Put You On lyrics]
But, you niggas already know that man
History in the making
There's a lot of things you
Niggas don't know about me, man
Let me put you on though, man
Well, I was making sales
At the age of twelve
Pack margarine, black laundry, case of shells
Never Dave Chappelle
Half baking, half faking, I was cash-chasing
Let me put you on
Before a hooker's song I wrote
Or would perform i was pushing strong
You niggas cooked it wrong
Ain't have 'em hooked for long
I hit the hood wit' form
Before Killa ever said "Let me put you on"
Flipping, listen baby I was never dumb
Sitting in the lobby like I'm waiting
For some mail to come
Come see me, believe me I got it
Girl I'm with some chicken head
But my B is exotic
Cause, I'm seen in the projects
With the top low glocked though
That'll leave more holes in your
Body than a Quatro
That's a Maserati pappo, stop slow
You don't really know me that well
Let me put you on
I'm known in a couple places but
I'm new to the rest (so what?)
This is for those couple places that
Ain't schooled to this vet listen closer
I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best
JR Writer, the dude in the flesh
Let me put you on
How I used to, go to school in class stuntin'
Back bubblin' like come and
Get a pack buzzin'
Ask cousin, brick up in the class oven
Had every other student up
In cooking class buggin' box cutter
Keep thinkin' I ain't stash nothing
While you was cuttin' class nigga
I was class cuttin'
In the schoolyard like let me
Catch a cat frontin'
I'm a slap something, let me put you on
I hit so much teachers with the lean
The principle
Had to call a meeting with the dean
But that's just cause they wanted a
Piece of what I seen
Similar to gymnastics how I keep
It on the beam
Had everybody in they classes getting high
Since elementary it's been a fact
That I am fly i tell the customers put the
Cash up in the sky
And treat 'em like a bad comedian
Slap 'em with a pie
Ha, all day in the lobby with piff
Still, sitting around like I gotta be rich
So me and? gotta pull some robberyshit
And drag frontin' niggas outta they whips
Let me put you on
I'm known in a couple places but
I'm new to the rest
This is for those couple places that
Ain't schooled to me yet
You need practice, plus you average
Get in tuned with this threat
Fred Money, excuse me I'm next
Let me put you on
I'm up next, yes the name is Fred Money
(I'm up) i'm waiting my spot now watch
How I shot dummies
Blame Writer cause the swagger
Brushed off something the closet a jungle
Gators and some wet monkeys
Look ya haters love me
Bitches get no paper from me
Pull up my sleeve at midnight
And it turning sunny
Before Writer was spitting
It was robbin' or sellin'
With him from a ski maskers
To a Diplomat skully
I ain't frontin', I'm tellin' straight facts
Decided to quit school cause I
Had to wear slacks
Nothing to do with clippers when
I push them wigs back
Was handed the same shit: either
Rap or push packs
Thought about it, I ain't hustlin' for scraps
Driving to the top
That's only bringin' me flats
Got a pen, wrote a rhyme, J says it's crack
A few mixtapes later, he like "Fred
Let me put you on"
I'm known in a couple places but
I'm new to the rest (so what?)
This is for those couple places that
Ain't schooled to the vet listen closer
I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best
JR Writer, the dude in the flesh
Let me put you on