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Paroles de Jazz

Interprète Mick Jenkins

Paroles de la chanson Jazz par Mick Jenkins lyrics officiel

Jazz est une chanson en Anglais

Drink more water
Or you might die

Seven Nine, King Drive, you can picture me rollin'
Bendin' corners we was headed to the Rasta
Nigga been blessed but a nigga been sick
And a nigga been stressed so, fuck it I'm a doctor
Self medicated, ginger ale in the champagne flutes and I ain't celebratin'
Shookin' up crack
Where presentation's everything, tell 'em wait 'til I'm plated
Patience, I'm faded, like outdated denim
Hearin' it like this about as rare as a cadence
The boy got some Miles Davis in him, talkin' all that jazz

Tellin' all that truth, nigga talk your shit
Better watch your mouth, better watch your back
Better choose the right way on some fork in the road shit
And of course the path less traveled
Fuck I look like followin' your footsteps?
Don't fumble 'cause this ain't Sunday football
I ain't at home with a footrest
In fact I'm in front of the back of your head
But I'm comin' from behind, better look left
Look left like where the fuck is he?
You got time on your head boy
You got time on your head like you wearing buck fifty
Do it so clean but it's still so filthy, fuck with me
'Cause you already know you fuck niggas really can't really talk with me

Talking all that jazz
Talking all that jazz, telling all that truth
Nigga talk your shit, nigga talk your shit
Talking all that jazz

Talking all that jazz, telling all that truth
Nigga talk your shit, nigga talk your shit
Talking all that jazz

Talking all that jazz, telling all that truth
Nigga talk your shit, nigga talk your shit

Talking all that jazz might get you popped
But I ain't gonna stop don't A-S-K
Until I'm in a white drop top with a smile on my face
And a hand in the air like JFK

Wait, all in your steam
Better known as a hotbox
Crack rocks in a square, better known as block
Impaired tryna move that's hopscotch
Unfair one leg is a hell of a cock block
My nigga what an anomaly
My nigga look at the world, my nigga what a monopoly
Drop tops in the hood, and they sitting on 22's
Nigga still on section 8 though
Tricking on the low for a ho nigga
Momma at the crib tryna stretch a couple pesos
Couldn't paint a pretty picture with the tears and her makeup
Better get MAACO, makeovers help niggas make money
But I'mma always talk that James Moody
Most rappers these days is actors
And I can't keep watching the same movie
These niggas keep sharing the same models
And these models act like they ain't groupies
I ain't stupid, talking Duke
Ellington, Count Bassie, Monk and Dave Brubeck
I ain't stupid
Talking too eloquent, I ain't stutter, my nigga I ain't Ruben
Ginger ale for the hoes in champagne flutes
Tell one of them come pour me a glass
She don't act up, she can get this truth
Tell her ass read that while I roll this joint
Nigga tryna relax, 'cause the shit don't stop
I ain't tryna relapse to that whack bullshit
Niggas better evac when I drop
'Cause I swear that this black man ain't talking all that jazz

Talking all that jazz
Talking all that jazz, telling all that truth
Nigga talk your shit, nigga talk your shit
Talking all that jazz

Talking all that jazz, telling all that truth
Nigga talk your shit, nigga talk your shit
Talking all that jazz

Talking all that jazz, telling all that truth
Nigga talk your shit, nigga talk your shit

Talking all that jazz might get you popped
But I ain't gonna stop don't A-S-K
Until I'm in a white drop top with a smile on my face
And a hand in the air like JFK

That Coltrane, that Charlie Parker, that Charles Mingus
That Frank Sinatra
Talking all that jazz
Talking all that jazz
That Coltrane, that Charlie Parker, that Charles Mingus
Frank Sinatra
Talking all that jazz
Talking all that jazz
Droits parole : paroles officielles sous licence Lyricfind respectant le droit d'auteur.
Reproduction des paroles interdite sans autorisation.

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