Jack + Jill (feat. The Dusty Bookshelf)
Jack and Jill went on a hill
I don't have an ounce of chill
Put some chicken on that grill
Cause Jon and BT get too trill
Fire bars, my mag is filled
Catch me outside, throwing still
Put up in a Coupe DeVille
I'm scoping out
It's time to kill
It's all white diamonds on my grills
Rollercoasters, catching thrills
We don't do that trap, it's drill
Got no problem killing Bill
I cook my chicken, love the smell
You ain't got no one to tell
Flick my holster, count the shells
Click my toaster, go to hell
While I'm spraying at a crowd
I'm a bastard say it proud
If you want to start a scene
Ain't got no problem getting loud
I just called up my new plug
He in my phone "The Polish Plow"
Actually that's just Kuba's contact name...
But I can say it I'm allowed
Imma bust a motherfucker
Like I'm tucked up under covers
Get that check I got it covered
When we shoot you gonna suffer
Them some wounds you can't recover
In the hospital for days
See that horn up on my chest
That shit will tell you "you fughazi"
Jack and Jill went on a hill
I don't have an ounce of chill
Put some chicken on that grill
Cause Jon and BT get too trill
Fire bars, my mag is filled
Catch me outside, throwing still
Put up in a Coupe DeVille
I'm scoping out
It's time to kill
Jack and Jill went on a hill
I don't have an ounce of chill
Put some chicken on that grill
Cause Jon and BT get too trill
Fire bars, my mag is filled
Catch me outside, throwing still
Put up in a Coupe DeVille
I'm scoping out
It's time to kill
Catch me up in quarantine
Got pods that's full of nicotine
I'll pick you up in limousine
And drop you in the guilloutine
My bars are clean like listerine
Got lean and green up in my jeans
So test me you gon lose a spleen
I been the King, I copped the Queen
Listen when I spit a little riddle
Imma kill them in the middle of the hill
That Jack and Jill went up
A killer with intent like
Peter Piper picked a pack
Of 50 Cal. rounds and he threw it in the back
When he pack around town
Cause the slack click clack
Imma put him in the ground
And you wack, so wack
I don't even know how
Like he might be the type to get hype
Till the pipe hit his wifey
So spite me, I'm frightening
Jack and Jill went up the hill
But Jon and me are way to trill
We got that ice we got that flow
So duck and cover, bombs we throw
This a habit
Shit got tragic
Jon got hooks like James J. Braddock
Like corona, wreaking havoc
Death wish though, I gotta have it
Jack and Jill went on a hill
I don't have an ounce of chill
Put some chicken on that grill
Cause Jon and BT get too trill
Fire bars, my mag is filled
Catch me outside, throwing still
Put up in a Coupe DeVille
I'm scoping out
It's time to kill