Mick Jenkins, Joey Bada$$ - Jerome lyrics
Joey Badass [Jo-Vaughn Virginie Scott] Brooklyn, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Mick Jenkins, Joey Bada$$ - Jerome lyrics]
"Get on your feet and testify
Lift your voice up to the sky"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air
Or you gon’ need a halo
I’m a mothafuckin’ slayer
This ain’t no game, I’m not no player
Nigga trying to find his way
And then he bringing pain
You better know we major
I’m on this water heavy
What’s a little gold and a pager?
Wrestle with these words a young Mick Foley
All I see is AC Slater
These niggas jaded, ‘bout to set it off
I feel like Jada
Still on the block it feel like
Jenga how it tumble down
Hands shaking like a Rumble pack
Are we humble now?
Buzzing, how we bumble now?
Leaving niggas puzzled
Do the right thing and they're buggin’ out
Know the Free don't stop for nothing
Tell ‘em niggas stop the frontin’
Roll in front, so if you ever see teardrop
You better know we choppin’ onions
I’m spitting yellow bricks
We rarely stop for munchkins
That’s why I do not fuck with customs
I’m unaccustomed to these costumes
Know that if you cross the free
It just might cost you
I’m not a doctor or Kevin Costner
The way I’m dancing with these wolves
I pray I never lost a step
I keep it steppin’ nigga that’s a bet
Relax and take notes
While I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Relax and take notes, relax and
Take notes, notes, notes, notes
Put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air
And wave them like you just don’t care
I’m just showin’ love to
My mothafuckin’ people
You can tell your mans we ain’t going nowhere
Now keep your hands in the motherfuckin' air
And wave them like you just don’t care
I’m just showin’ love to
My mothafuckin’ people
You can tell your mans we ain’t going nowhere
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Jerome in the mothafuckin’ house now
Leather loafer steppin’
Niggas better watch they mouth now
Leaving loaded lessons
Pray for blessings when the doubts ‘round
Thousand Island stretchin’
I ain’t stressin’ no salad
I’m in this water where the sharks be
Coming for the same place your thoughts be
Artsy, dirty mouth, I never do the flossing
Hardly, stuntin’ on the
Niggas that’s frontin’
I know they do not want
It, I run over niggas, that’s punnin'
No, I ain’t trying to kick it
I’m cookin’ no bun in the oven
I need it on the stove
Push it to the people off a cottage grove
Pot of gold, flooded more than Hollygrove
Mothafuck a Hollywood, never take a holiday
I’m spotting foes
Everywhere, know that I get very rare
Faced the God
What’s up Based God? I’m pacing hot
Tracing opps, know your enemy
Control your energy
Don’t slip with niggas that pretend to be
Only kin of me can call me blood
Even a friendly can see the love
We do it for the free and keep it up
Tell your niggas they can keep the hate
Tell my friends I appreciate
The value never depreciate
This for my niggas
Who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild
We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out
It’s been a minute
I’ve been chillin’ on the pile
Right, right, and to my crooks
From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook
Right, right
Put your fucking hands up in the air
Or you gon' have to lay low
When I motherfucking spray ya
This ain’t no game like Sega, don’t be a hero
I’m with my good fellas and
We ‘bout to Rob DiNero
Give me the pesos, give me the Euros
Give me the dollars give me the say so if
These niggas want the drama
If I call my partners up
Body bags is popping up
Keep popping shit, we pop the trunk
Make you niggas popular
Hit him between his oculars, what
The fuck is popping, cuz?
Super Saiyan like I opened 47 chakras up
Pussy hoes we knocking up
These flows keep stocking up
As long as I’m rhyming, I'm
Ben Wallace on your wallets, uh
My true shottas go blocka, blocka
Soul shocking with the fire
Probably light your block up
Stop your blood clot crying
The pussy boy there dying
It’s a cold, cold world
I think these niggas need the iron
Like, "Blaow"
How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king
Of them now niggas jocking my style
I been all on the road
I been checking out the shows
I been fucking your hoes, like blap
How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king
Of them now niggas biting my style
I been all on the road
I been checking out the shows
I been fucking your hoes
This for my niggas
Who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild
We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out
It’s been a minute
I’ve been chillin’ on the pile
Right, right, and to my crooks
From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook
Right, right
Lift your voice up to the sky"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air
Or you gon’ need a halo
I’m a mothafuckin’ slayer
This ain’t no game, I’m not no player
Nigga trying to find his way
And then he bringing pain
You better know we major
I’m on this water heavy
What’s a little gold and a pager?
Wrestle with these words a young Mick Foley
All I see is AC Slater
These niggas jaded, ‘bout to set it off
I feel like Jada
Still on the block it feel like
Jenga how it tumble down
Hands shaking like a Rumble pack
Are we humble now?
Buzzing, how we bumble now?
Leaving niggas puzzled
Do the right thing and they're buggin’ out
Know the Free don't stop for nothing
Tell ‘em niggas stop the frontin’
Roll in front, so if you ever see teardrop
You better know we choppin’ onions
I’m spitting yellow bricks
We rarely stop for munchkins
That’s why I do not fuck with customs
I’m unaccustomed to these costumes
Know that if you cross the free
It just might cost you
I’m not a doctor or Kevin Costner
The way I’m dancing with these wolves
I pray I never lost a step
I keep it steppin’ nigga that’s a bet
Relax and take notes
While I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Relax and take notes, relax and
Take notes, notes, notes, notes
Put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air
And wave them like you just don’t care
I’m just showin’ love to
My mothafuckin’ people
You can tell your mans we ain’t going nowhere
Now keep your hands in the motherfuckin' air
And wave them like you just don’t care
I’m just showin’ love to
My mothafuckin’ people
You can tell your mans we ain’t going nowhere
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the
Jerome in the mothafuckin’ house now
Leather loafer steppin’
Niggas better watch they mouth now
Leaving loaded lessons
Pray for blessings when the doubts ‘round
Thousand Island stretchin’
I ain’t stressin’ no salad
I’m in this water where the sharks be
Coming for the same place your thoughts be
Artsy, dirty mouth, I never do the flossing
Hardly, stuntin’ on the
Niggas that’s frontin’
I know they do not want
It, I run over niggas, that’s punnin'
No, I ain’t trying to kick it
I’m cookin’ no bun in the oven
I need it on the stove
Push it to the people off a cottage grove
Pot of gold, flooded more than Hollygrove
Mothafuck a Hollywood, never take a holiday
I’m spotting foes
Everywhere, know that I get very rare
Faced the God
What’s up Based God? I’m pacing hot
Tracing opps, know your enemy
Control your energy
Don’t slip with niggas that pretend to be
Only kin of me can call me blood
Even a friendly can see the love
We do it for the free and keep it up
Tell your niggas they can keep the hate
Tell my friends I appreciate
The value never depreciate
This for my niggas
Who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild
We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out
It’s been a minute
I’ve been chillin’ on the pile
Right, right, and to my crooks
From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook
Right, right
Put your fucking hands up in the air
Or you gon' have to lay low
When I motherfucking spray ya
This ain’t no game like Sega, don’t be a hero
I’m with my good fellas and
We ‘bout to Rob DiNero
Give me the pesos, give me the Euros
Give me the dollars give me the say so if
These niggas want the drama
If I call my partners up
Body bags is popping up
Keep popping shit, we pop the trunk
Make you niggas popular
Hit him between his oculars, what
The fuck is popping, cuz?
Super Saiyan like I opened 47 chakras up
Pussy hoes we knocking up
These flows keep stocking up
As long as I’m rhyming, I'm
Ben Wallace on your wallets, uh
My true shottas go blocka, blocka
Soul shocking with the fire
Probably light your block up
Stop your blood clot crying
The pussy boy there dying
It’s a cold, cold world
I think these niggas need the iron
Like, "Blaow"
How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king
Of them now niggas jocking my style
I been all on the road
I been checking out the shows
I been fucking your hoes, like blap
How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king
Of them now niggas biting my style
I been all on the road
I been checking out the shows
I been fucking your hoes
This for my niggas
Who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild
We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out
It’s been a minute
I’ve been chillin’ on the pile
Right, right, and to my crooks
From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook
Right, right