Death Note

Hit the top call me Jacques, not the Scott
You motherfuckers ain't giving props
And when I Silk the Shock, I'm cream the crop,
The bar is hot, I'm dropping bombs, no you're not
Dropping opps, no you're not
Sendings shots, no you're not
Got the chops, drop the top, hit the spot
Never not, on the roll, never had any, stop
Cut me off never knowing no better
Hypnotized I don't fuck with no letter
Burn it down in my flannel-like Vedder
Slap shots hold it down like I'm Weber
Rick leather on Ramones in this bitch
Death Note got me left in a ditch
Get in tune better change your whole pitch
Satin sheets never needed a change
Stay in your lane, fuck boy you and I ain't the same
Pen game bitch you checkers I'm chess
Both know you can't fuck with the best, nevertheless
Palisades, candy paint, patron saint, say my name and you're dead
Let that go to your head, bitch you know what I said, look
Blue suede, tailor-made, switchblade, marble fade, masquerade no mask
Ready know I don't ask, blow by blow I don't lack, fine
Bartman Sideshow, so ho, wanna know why I'm laying low
Well I feel like trash from where I'm at, but fuck all that
But Jack Dice where the fuck you at

First-class, fuck the past, bout to blast, shit bitch I'm top the class
Let's talk about this, ice the wrist like hockey practice
Drop the act bitch ain't an actress, vinyl records shit instant classic
Shot in space Starship Galactic, fuck I'm blasting,
Bitches lacking, look man god damn, who
Spinning vinyl records whip Camaros, with your EBT
Call me back, jacket print mismatched, shit no strings a wait
Hitman with the shot Bret Hart sharpshooter
Nature boy drip run it back and I'll do you
Rocking all black never cutting any slack
And you better call me Jack when I'm coming out the tap, ooh
Awfully confident
Bow down to me I'm dominant
Comme on me but I rock Supreme
Ain't talk shit and I ain't set free
Never one to speak but I wonder how it feels
Ten times out of ten I'm the one who gonna eat
Say you need me but the game ain't deep
So I ain't try hard and you can't compete look
One day you say that I can't be him
All good find me in the blacked-out tint
Gatti wanna ride but you can't hop in
Big Benz matte black, all bricks with the rims
Ten MAC's all clap and you can't shoot back
All eye's on me twelve pairs two packs
Pupils wanna imitate SMD
From a king to a god better bend them knees



Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan Clemente
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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