Old School
Yo Jamie yo, yo rudeboy
Ayo rudeboy, come here, blud
Oi, come here, oi, yo, stop come here, star
Ayy, ayy blud, come here blud
Don't want come here!
Shut ya mout, rudeboy, allow the hype
Chatting shit, put down the mic
See, in two years
You're gonna pull out the pipe
Send for the rocks, pull out the light
If I was you, I would sit down tonight
Read them bars you decide to write
And think carefully before
I put my dutty lips around the mic
What? Check out the sweat on my neck
I'm Lord of the Mic and Lord of the Deck
Not no wasted yout from the bit's
I can MC, produce and mix
Nah, fam, I won't diss you
Let's not make this an issue
'Cause really nobody would miss you
If your dad would've put you in a tissue
I've got two GUESS watches
You think that's P? Guess what is
Round my neck, if my chest hot, it
Cools me down like a vest top
Nah, you won't see me with no red blotches
On my chest, near my breast pocket
What you thought you saw, I guess not, it's
My pendant that will blind out your eye
Yo, blud, don't get rude
Rudeboy, warning you
You know that I don't normally slew
Slew me, that'll be the end of you
All this badboy talk is nothing
You've got a stiff face like
You wanna say something
Don't get rude, I said don't get rude
I will start uppercutting
You better mind out that I don't
Bounce your head twice and dunk
It in a basket
Try jack Jme's flow, jack Jme's lyrics
And then try to mask it
You're baiter than a rasta man
With fourteen tenses your style will go dry
Quicker than contact lenses
I write lyrics, if you take offence
You can go to your garden and take a fence
And knock yourself out, but if we're friends
Ring me, it's only thirty pence
Or you can take it upon yourself
To go home and write one yourself
But you're so swag
That you'll probably write a bar like this
"Jme, you shout too loud
Jme, put the mic down
Jme, you just ain't cutting it
If I see your face, I'm headbutting it
Jme, you think you're serious
Jme, you're nowhere near it
Jme, you think you're sick
But you're any durag prick"
While you were writing one-liners
I was on road shotting one-liners
Not flames, couldn't be seen on the roads
Blacked-out like a limousine on the roads
What? I wear black clothes when I'm here
Nobody even knows when I'm here
I only wrote this lyric to show
I'm the master of the one-line flows
Beat you up! yeah, yeah, everybody knows
You're some goody-goody, yeah
Everybody knows
I hear you say Boy Better Know
But you ain't got the energy
Boy Better Know!
From day one, yeah, that's me
AIR VENT IN YOUR CREP! yeah, that's me
I'm the master of the one-line flows
I can proudly say that I've got one of those
You better mind out that I don't
Bounce your head twice and dunk
It in a basket
Try jack Jme's flow, jack Jme's lyrics
And then try to mask it
You're baiter than a rasta man
With fourteen tenses your style will go dry
Quicker than contact lenses