Ras Kass, Jelly Roll - Slap Season lyrics
Jelly Roll [Jason Bradley DeFord] Antioch, Tennessee, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Ras Kass, Jelly Roll - Slap Season lyrics]
They say men don't cry
But why this shit leakin' out my eye?
Every day's a good day to die
If I live each second, stand up straight
Man of a man, shit just don't add up
So what's really good? I can't tell
Got niggas screaming "Church" going
Straight to Hell
In a red Testerossa, wild West coaster
Carry techs in holster, respect the Nostra
Fam like mafia, white polo t-shirted
Haters say the same shit like
I ain't never hizzeard it
Yall niggas is funny like Nick Cannon
Got a nickel-plated magnum
Nick named Nick Cannon
Hitman and tryin' not to spit random
Bust at even a phantom
Ricocheted and hit Adam
Put Satan on my belt and
My Force One swooshes never bit apple
Blend the can with the juices
Fail the plan, you plan to fail
And the plan is to send my little man to Yale
And niggas know they ain't fuckin' with that
Like what did the five fingers
Say to the face? Slap!
Just give me the reason
And I'll promise I'll make it your day
(slap season) my hands are so achey from
Slappin' these niggas all day (slap season)
Boy, I tried to tell you that
I don't really play those games
(slap season)
Ohhh ohhhhhh ohhhhhhhh (slap season)
And you can think you know a nigga
'til he get a little fame
Fucked me up though, gotta move on now
Step my game up, making product cologne now
Dumbin' out, minkin'
Bout to a custom made skunk, fur, hoody
And it ain't stinkin'
Yall know the biz, that's what it is
Got Wendy outta Capitol like I
Clapped on the bitch
Kept my masters, and let paper trail explain
Beat white corporate America at they own game
I'm a couple million dollars richer
Rap has got heads startin' to buy frames
Yall get the picture and before I go broke
I send the bitch on a flight
With her baby in her tote
That ain't formula
Bottles filled with liquified coke
Make the sign of the cross
And die with the Pope
Float through Cali with Damu's and blues
Non-affiliates and seranios too
Bulldogs, northerners, and Kumi
Prolly some other shit you never heard
Of somewhere in the boonies
Shiites and Sunnis, oosoes and goonies
Like Santa, I slide down your chimney
Sprayin' a uzi
And niggas know they ain't fuckin' with that
Like what did the five fingers
Say to the face? Slap!
But why this shit leakin' out my eye?
Every day's a good day to die
If I live each second, stand up straight
Man of a man, shit just don't add up
So what's really good? I can't tell
Got niggas screaming "Church" going
Straight to Hell
In a red Testerossa, wild West coaster
Carry techs in holster, respect the Nostra
Fam like mafia, white polo t-shirted
Haters say the same shit like
I ain't never hizzeard it
Yall niggas is funny like Nick Cannon
Got a nickel-plated magnum
Nick named Nick Cannon
Hitman and tryin' not to spit random
Bust at even a phantom
Ricocheted and hit Adam
Put Satan on my belt and
My Force One swooshes never bit apple
Blend the can with the juices
Fail the plan, you plan to fail
And the plan is to send my little man to Yale
And niggas know they ain't fuckin' with that
Like what did the five fingers
Say to the face? Slap!
Just give me the reason
And I'll promise I'll make it your day
(slap season) my hands are so achey from
Slappin' these niggas all day (slap season)
Boy, I tried to tell you that
I don't really play those games
(slap season)
Ohhh ohhhhhh ohhhhhhhh (slap season)
And you can think you know a nigga
'til he get a little fame
Fucked me up though, gotta move on now
Step my game up, making product cologne now
Dumbin' out, minkin'
Bout to a custom made skunk, fur, hoody
And it ain't stinkin'
Yall know the biz, that's what it is
Got Wendy outta Capitol like I
Clapped on the bitch
Kept my masters, and let paper trail explain
Beat white corporate America at they own game
I'm a couple million dollars richer
Rap has got heads startin' to buy frames
Yall get the picture and before I go broke
I send the bitch on a flight
With her baby in her tote
That ain't formula
Bottles filled with liquified coke
Make the sign of the cross
And die with the Pope
Float through Cali with Damu's and blues
Non-affiliates and seranios too
Bulldogs, northerners, and Kumi
Prolly some other shit you never heard
Of somewhere in the boonies
Shiites and Sunnis, oosoes and goonies
Like Santa, I slide down your chimney
Sprayin' a uzi
And niggas know they ain't fuckin' with that
Like what did the five fingers
Say to the face? Slap!