1.Girl 2.J 3.Been Thinking 4.Out...

I told you, When I first met you

I loved you, and I’d never let you

Let you go, let you cry, be in pain

Now you know, I tried to be the same

Just like you, green eyes, real smile

That I can do, but just for a while

I don’t have a beat, no I can’t rap

It’s just not me, this song is crap

No matter how much I fight, I’ll never win

So I’ll fly the flag that’s white, this is the end

If you ever told me, you wish I were dead

Although Shakey, I’d shoot myself in the head

I just got to figure out, shit happens

It’s not all about, their actions

Just look down and read the captions

There is no source code for life

Just explode to bring the light

Forced to join the military, be a hurt locker

But on the contrary, you mother fucker

I don’t know what I’m saying

because this cop ain’t playing

It’s this or Jail, What the Hell?

 

But now that’s off the subject

please don’t boff at the verdict

I know I’m not perfect

Am I insane, am I delirious

Don’t complain that this song is hideous

Who’s the fucking lyricist

the author is anonymous

 

This isn’t really what I wanted to say

I’m leaving this country, in a few days

If you forget me, it’s okay

Please just know and never forget

If your below and have regret

I will be right there, forever and always

To kill your nightmare, fight it away

No matter where you go, or what you do

So now you know, I love you

 

 

Who am I, J that’s my name

Like a wild animal I aint nothing you can tame

Everything you say I just wash that shit down the drain

Then drown that shit with Draino

I can get high like I got my own personal crane

Or I can erupt like a Volcano

When it comes to heat, I got all the keys like a new piano

If I don’t have anything decent to say I don’t say that shit

I suggest you mafuckers to be counterfeit

And do like me and just blow tree

And remember, don’t fucking push me in the corner

I’ll come out with heat that will take you to the coroner

I know the streets, I’m no foreigner

Think you’re at the top, at the most former

Get the fuck off my throne, that seat is mine and mine you’re on

You’re alien to my territory

Get the fuck up or this can get gory

Pull out your phone

And E.T. get the fuck home

 

I don’t care what you think

I push all the limits to the brink

24/7 my minds on that dank

Lean is the only mixed drink I’ll drink

Accusations mean nothing to me

John Cena to the bitches, me is something you can’t see

Go ahead and call me a liar

Say whatever the fuck you desire

It all means nothing when I light my fire

I can be the bigger man when I get higher

I guess when it rains it pours

Bad times, man I can’t take any more

High times, I need more

I swear I can see the light behind the door

One way or another I’m gonna reach it

Till then, I’m just gonna put up with the fuck shit

Roll up a fatty to hit

Put on another track

And just sit back and relax

I know I can bring the heat that melts haters like wax

But more will come like the rain

This fire inside I gotta maintain

Or else it’s gonna engulf me and drive me insane

That’s why I roll paper planes

Just worry bout me and my lanes

I know what happens when I complain

It just fuels their fire and it’s a damn shame

That’s why I gotta be the firefighter that shuts down the lame

 

Where am I

Sky high

Why

Mafucka I’m fly

Official like the suit and the tie

I’m gonna fuck this rap game till the bitch gets dry

Or take a silver bullet and die

But remember I got heat that aint shy

Bullets fly

But so do I

Superman to the world

You don’t even compare to the shit I’ve hurled

Go ahead and run your mouth

But bitch, did you forget I’m from the dirty South

Remember what I say

Remember the name, J

 

 

To get some pleasure,

Grams I had to measure,

Fuck up a deal,

Death or displeasure,

Running the streets was a hard job,

Turn the knob,

To my new beach house,

My life is made,

Ready to get paid,

Mansion with the maid,

Working 6 days a week,

Getting high on Saturday,

That’s what I say,

I stay strapped twenty-four-seven,

I’m not going to heaven,

I reckon,

Drop a sick beat and I’ll wreck it.

 

I’m classical,

Lyrically cynical,

Never ending sin-cycle,

Getting high off medicals,

That’ll fuck with yours,

And my mind,

Turning shit to rewind,

Time turning around,

Not forward it’s going behind,

Turn time,

To slow mo,

Every show,

That I do is so dope,

120 miles per hour,

Still slow though.

 

I smoke weed till my motherfucking eyes bleed,

Smoking bags,

No sticks or seeds,

Fuck with me,

I’ll make you bleed,

And plead for your life,

Got your fists I got my knife,

Also known as a razor,

1.2 million watt taser,

Mis behave yah,

I’ll shave yah,

Earned the title of slayer.

 

I don’t do it for the fortune or fame,

Money and ho’s I’ll still be the same,

Remembering where I came,

From and what I did to get big,

I don’t smoke cigs,

Roll a fat jay,

Of haze or bubblegum,

Come and get some,

No slum,

Just million-air,

Spend a lot on kush,

Spend more on my hair,

Gotta look fly for the hunnies,

That got the money,

Play-boy bunnies,

Not funny,

I would rather beat my dick than trick,

These motherfuckers think I’m down to knock boots,

I salute and turn around and scoot,

Before I have to shoot a punk motherfucker,

A motherfucking dick sucker,

But I love yah,

Cos I’m above yah,

Bish and bash,

Push or shove yah,

Punk bitch motherfucker.

 

Reflections make me question whether my sight is right,

Or if the isomers my eyes prefer project the true lighting of life.

But seasons change; the clouds dissipate, the ground becomes precipitate, and everything reciprocates.

And Art is no different; a work of Art is just and instrument to make the lowest gaze on rainy days stare upward toward the infinite.

 

And this visceral expression extends past visual reflection.

The rhythmic progression, defined by the pitter-patter.

Every beat in succinct succession, each droplett unique to the one it’s after-

And after a puddle is gathered, I peer in to find myself.

His eyes tell all the trials he’s dealt,

The cries, the why’s he’s felt

The times his mind has dwelt in a list of other rhyming hells.

And I know he sees it in my eyes a well

Because his eyes are my own, the always have been,

This travelin soul of mine runs by force of habit.

 

Until something grabs it.

A new voice in my head speaks gently,

All scars aren’t harsh memories, but rather the art of divinity,

at which I awe and am in the same breath,

I step back to reflect.

On child’s play in the driveway, when hip hop lived on the front step.

And I hear all those skinned-knee melodies when ecstasy enters me,

An overwhelming Catharsis.

And all the joy, the pain, the hardships, reside in that guitar riff.

The reflections face changes and I know that he hears it too,

The beginning of something new.

 

The End My Friend I know your sad but you should be glad psh son

it wasnt that bad now go back home a great day dont be grumpy or gay

for the end we will descend.