J.R. Writer - Take Notes lyrics

rate me

[Intro:]

Uhh see man (what)

What you muh'fuckers fail to realize is (what's that?)

I am that nigga (true)

And ain't shit you could do about that, ya underdig?

Uhh, yeah

[Verse 1:]

I'm a hooligan hater, but I move like a player

Take a look up in my closet (look) every shoe'll be gator

Have your baby mother drillin, out the coupe when I slay her

You couldn't get the bitch to tip if you was a waiter

You aint marketable, why argue wit'chu

I'm in the Maybach tryin to find parkin for two

Who? The God of this breddren, the weapon

You ain't seein numbers, your career is on *67

Your track list is crackless, I use it as a ash kit

Like hold up, yeah, flick ya ashes on this whack shit

This ain't that piff, homie I will finish ya

Black suits, black cars, hoe I'm like the senator

Or kinda similar, plus ask the DJ's

I put out fire, like I'm holdin an extinguisher

New shit every week, new piff, very heat

I'll show you how to do this, your music is very sweet

[Hook:]

I mastered this, you're average, nigga you should take notes

You bastards sick, I'm back with piff, but nigga you should take notes

I'll show you how to stack your chips, most of y'all are straight broke

I mastered this, what crack you spit, nigga you should take notes

You ain't gotta jack my shit, I'll show you how to bake coke

Turn it to a half a brick, make the game chain smoke

Find a town, stack ya chips, cause most of y'all are straight broke

I mastered this, you're average, nigga you should take notes

[Verse 2:]

The law watch him, I'm car droppin, you hard toppin

These player haters can't stand to see J.R. poppin

But the star's boxin, how I get 'em off me

with left jabs, fag, call me Bernard Hopkins

The heat of the night, they heated I'm nice

Sleeped in my Nikes, with not a damn crease in my whites

While you sucker-for-lovers make a freak off ya wife

And throw cuffs on her like you 'bout to read her her rights, right

I'm hard as fuck, you target ducks, you ain't spittin hard enough

Listen here mami, tsunami couldn't wash me up

Child's a pro, my style is whoa, verse is wow, hurt 'em how

Homey I am versatile, you lookin at a talent show

So, get used to the, hot bars movin ya

Loosin ya I'm Lucifer, sittin on Jupiter

Listen this is proof, prick you are a fluke

I got this wrapped up, it's useless for you to get in the booth

Holla

[Hook]