Jerome

[Intro: Sample] "Get on your feet and testify Lift your voice up to the sky" [Refrain 1: Kirk Knight] Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—get the— Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the— Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the— [Verse 1: Mick Jenkins] 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 [Refrain 2: The Notorious B.I.G.] Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke Relax and take notes, relax and take notes, notes, notes, notes [Hook: Mick Jenkins] 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 [Refrain 1: Kirk Knight] Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—get the— Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the— Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the— [Verse 2: Mick Jenkins] 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 [Refrain 3: Joey Bada$$] This for my niggas, who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out It’s been a minute, I’ve been chillin’ on the pile Right, right, and to my crooks From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush We get wild if you give us that look Hit you with the follow up and the right hook Right, right [Verse 3: Joey Bada$$] 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" [Bridge: Joey Bada$$] How you like me now? It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king of them now Niggas jocking my style, I been all on the road I been checking out the shows, I been fucking your hoes, like blap How you like me now? It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king of them now Niggas biting my style, I been all on the road I been checking out the shows, I been fucking your hoes [Refrain 3: Joey Bada$$] 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 [Produced by: Kirk Knight]