dreamville's j.i.d. freestyle on dj tony touch shade 45 - jid lyrics
[intro: tony touch and jid]
yeah yeah shade 45
you know what it is
it’s talker tuesdays
(yeah)
got my man from the a over here, j.i.d
(aight)
we gon’ get into some sh-t
(let’s do this sh-t)
sup jay
[verse: jid]
look, uh, check
alright the time was just perfect
the moment was just right
i’m conjurin’ up a formula
[?] time tryin’ it, d-mn
mad scientist mixed wit’ a strong vicodin
vitamin, vital information
chicken scratch
writin’ it pleh
i guess i wasn’t speakin’ too clear
or i’m talkin’ some bad english in here
they lookin’ at me like my zipper down
or i whipped out my p-n-s in here
i must be crazy or sumn’
i guess i’m crazy or sumn’
d-mn baby you s-xy as f-ck
why you [?] be up frontin’
actin’ like i’m not amazing or sumn’
i’m just dodgin’ the fugazi
lately, n-ggas act like ladies or sumn’
it’s in the [?] to drink more
but make sure that it’s clean and pure
boy, boy, owe me the money you couldn’t hide it
bore bore, bro i’m dora the explorer for the dough
four-door hoppin’ out the ford explorer for the dough
wit’ the .45 or the .44
more dying more slow, oh
anything to get this cheddar and step my bread up
socrates n-gga i could charge by the letter
she like “jid, you been dat n-gga, you know it’s a set up”
shawty was like a fat physic, a four-chin teller
thanks for the lesson, that’s love, illogical blessings
as i take another pull from the evidence, i’m so irrelevant
b-tt kick sh-t wit’ the best of dem
give heart and intestines
spit phlegm on the mic’ when the record spin
i been listenin’ to the n-ggas y’all say that’s dope comin’ up
well calm the f-ck down, there ain’t no sh-t comin’ up after us
straight out of the mud, i slap bugs in the aqueduct
wit’ the same n-ggas used to jump the train tracks wit’ us
n-ggas get slain if he hoppin’ on any track wit’ us
simple and plain, n-ggas is lame
who you know, yo’ name makin’ some bills rang
but the light at the end of your tunnel is a train
so splat on the track again
i want the gold, no young bird
my dreads like whoopie
my heart cold b-tch, penguin p-ssy
i swear it’s not me, she tried to give me the p-ssy
i just be coolin’ and kickin’ it
spittin’ and rippin’ it
head bob, i knew you was feelin’ it
who is i’m diggin’ a grave for
f-ck yo’ label, who is i’m bein’ as slave for
i go crazy, i then rob the baker
give me ya’ cheese, ya’ bread, and sprinkle some basil
it’s amazing how the f-ck i just go crazy on the beat
ji- uh oh whatever
[outro: tony touch and jid]
ay yessuh hah
i’m chillin’ i’m chillin’ haha
that’s what i’m talkin’ bout man
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