[Intro]
Talk to me, I talk back
Ayy, talk to me nice
Let’s talk about it
[Verse 1]
I got that fire water, nigga want that smoke? I’m a fire starter
Shining like a beacon, next weekend I might fly to Florida
Hoping that my plug who got the cocaine can supply my order
Seen a couple trinkets up his ears I should buy my daughter
Down in G.I., niggas call me Joe but I’m more Sergeant Slaughter
Dropped my buffs off at Hutch, had to get my Cartis soldered
My target audience, they thought that I had called it quits
But that’s rhetorical, was on Memorial with Walt and Chris
Counting balled up cash with them playmakers
227 fugitive, U of M, Great Lakеr
Way the work wet, double cup, full of Maybеlline
Plate looking like some shaving cream on a straight razor
Unky Ben’s skin popping Rs, he a H banger
Auntie got a stent in her heart on a pacemaker
Whip a ki into a delicacy, I’m a taste maker
Health hazard on front of my cup, it’s a safe danger
What else?
[Chorus]
Auntie Debbie want a one-and-one
Pressing up the sketty, mixing fetty with the bubbleyum
Trying to double up, uncle Eddie want a graham cracker
Trying to spend 100 bucks then I gotta serve jam after
It’s the king of rock, but they call me the Jam Master
Backseat of the Cullinan, counting up them band rackers
Shooting jams, moving grams, I’m a yam smacker
It’s Jam Master J, a.k.a. the Jam Master
[Verse 2]
Hurt me to find out that he don’t own his damn masters
I don’t hit women but I’m quick to let my hand slap her
Still on the one, I am talking ‘bout no Lancaster
Fuck it, let’s shoot it out, see who open up the slam faster
Package man like a Packers fan, I’m a head tapper
Grand champ, Amtrakker, 10:08 Saran wrapper
Bird flee in with the film flackers
If you touch it barehanded, just make sure to wash your hands after
For them blue blans, I can get you flew flammed
To all you little stupids, I never been no damn rapper
Big dummy, sell dope, rob, kill, get money
Sip drank, fuck whole Tonys, let her man cash it
Fully blue Benz cost me forty-two grand
So much money, you can’t even compute it like a scam hacker
In the back of the Bach, neck a thousand graham crackers
Best believe if I ain’t take her down then my mans caught it
Let’s get it
[Chorus]
Auntie Debbie want a one-and-one
Pressing up the sketty, mixing fetty with the bubbleyum
Trying to double up, uncle Eddie want a graham cracker
Trying to spend 100 bucks then I gotta serve jam after
It’s the king of rock, but they call me the Jam Master
Backseat of the Cullinan, counting up them band rackers
Shooting jams, moving grams, I’m a yam smacker
It’s Jam Master J, a.k.a. the Jam Master
[Outro]
It is known that many pimps
Though they like to describe themselves as gentlemen of leisure
In fact, do work at pushing and dealing in drugs
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