Mick Jenkins - Jerome lyrics

rate me

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 gonna need a halo, I’m a motherfuckin’ slayer

This ain’t no game, I’m not no player

Nigga tryin’ 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 in a pager

Wrestle with these words a young Mick Foley

All I see is AC Slater

These niggas jaded, about to set it off, I be like Jada

Still on the block it feel like Jenga how it tumble down

Hands shaking like a Rumble, pack up we humble now

Buzzing how we bumble now

Leaving niggas puzzled,

Do the right thing and they buggin’ out

Know the freedom stop for nothing,

Tell them niggaz 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 her

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 motherfuckin’ people

You can tell your men we ain’t going no where

Now keep your motherfuckin’ hands in the air

And wave them like you just don’t care

I’m just showin’ love to my motherfuckin’ people

You can tell your men we ain’t going no where

Jerome in the motherfuckin’ house now

Let a 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 niggaz that’s punnin’

No I ain’t tryin’ 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

Motherfuckin’ 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 opts

Know your enemy, patrol 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 niggaz they can keep the hate

Tell my friends I appreciate, the value never depreciate

This for my niggaz,

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 your pal, right, right

Until 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 gonna have to lay low when I motherfucking spray you

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 niggaz want the drama

If I call my partners up, body bags is popping up

Keep popping shit, we pop the trunk, make you niggaz popular

Hit him between his oculars,

What the fuck is popping, cuz?

Super Saiyan like I opened forty-seven chakras up

Pussy hoes we knocking up, these hoes 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 niggaz need the iron like "blaow"

How you like me now?

It’s the motherfuckin’ Brooklyn king of them now

Nigga’s jocking my style, I been all on the road

I been checkin’ out the shows,

I’ve been fuckin’ your hoes, like blap

How you like me now?

It’s the motherfuckin’ Brooklyn king of them now

Nigga’s jocking my style, I been all on the road

I been checkin’ out the shows, I’ve been fuckin’ your hoes

This for my niggaz,

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 your pal, right, right

Until 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