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Jay Dee

Genres: Hip-Hop

Drop Lyrics - Jay Dee

Let me freak the funk, 

Obsolete is the punk that talk more junk than Sanford sells 

I jet propel at a rate that complice their mental state 

As I invade their masquerade 

They couldn't fade with a clipper blade 

10 years in the trade is not enough, you can't cut it 

I let you take a swing, and you bunted 

For an easy out, I leave mc's with doubt 

Of exceeding, my name is Bottie Brown and I'm proceeding, leading, 

They try to follow but they're shallow and hollow 

I can see right through them like an empty 40 bottle, of O.E. 

They have no key, or no clue 

To the game at all, now they washed up 

Hung out to dry 

Standing looking stupid, wondering why 

(why man?) 

It was the fame, that they tried to get 

Now they walking around talking about represent 

And keep it real, but I got to appeal 

Cause they existing in a fantasy when holding the steel 

 

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Rock a bye baby, 

Listen to my heart pumping to a fine ravine 

Of all things it's a vain of a shrine 

All missions impossible are possible, cause I'm 

Heading for a new sector 365 days from now, I'll 

Wipe the sweat from my brow 

And each and every true will stick, or fall from the sky of my cloud nine 

From homies all the way to chics, no matter how fine 

Controlling is a swollen way to wreck a proud mind 

You hold it in your hands and watch a man start crying 

Tear after tear in the puppet man's hands 

Every time you take a stance you do the puppet man's dance 

And the worlds at a stand-still 

Deep in broken mansville, trapped in the moat with an anvil, still 

Killing yourself, and dogging ya health 

You ain't amphibious, so grab a hold of yourself 

 

Photos 

 

Shit is-shit is ill, my flow still will spill 

Toxic slick to shock you sick like electrocute 

When I execute, acutely over the rhythm 

On those that pollute, extra dosages is what I gotta give em 

Got em mad and trembling 

Cause I been up in my lad assembling 

Missiles, to bomb the enemy 

Because they envy me, and the making of my mad currency 

Currently I think we're in a state of an emergency 

Cause niggas done sold their souls, and now their souls is hollow 

And I think they can't follow 

They can't swallow, the truth because it hurts 

This is how I put it down, this is my earth, my turf 

The worth of my birth is a billion, and you know what time it is 

I'm going to make a million 

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