Jerome Lyrics - Mick Jenkins

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 gon' need a halo, I'm a mothafuckin' slayer 

This ain't no game, I'm not no player 

Nigga tryna find his way and then he bringing pain 

You better know we major 

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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 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 

Photos 

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 mothafuckin' people 

You can tell your mans we ain't going no where 

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 no where 

Yeah, yeah, yeah get the, get the 

Yeah, yeah, yeah get the 

Yeah, yeah, yeah get the 

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 tryna 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 

Mothafuckin' 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, 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 niggas they can keep the hate 

Tell my friends I appreciate, the value never depreciate 

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 

Put your fucking hands up in the air 

Or you gon' 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 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 forty-seven 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" 

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 

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