Mick Jenkins – Jerome lyrics

(feat. Joey Bada$$)

[Intro: Sample]
"Get on your feet and testify
Lift your voice up to the sky"

[Refrain 1: Kirk Knight]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—get the—
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—

[Verse 1: Mick Jenkins]
Put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air
Or you gon’ need a halo, I’m a mothafuckin’ slayer
This ain’t no game, I’m not no player
Nigga trying to find his way and then he bringing pain, you better know we major
I’m on this water heavy, what’s a little gold and a pager?
Wrestle with these words a young Mick Foley, all I see is AC Slater
These niggas jaded, ‘bout to set it off, I feel like Jada
Still on the block it feel like Jenga how it tumble down
Hands shaking like a Rumble pack, are we humble now?
Buzzing, how we bumble now?
Leaving niggas puzzled, do the right thing and they're buggin’ out
Know the Free don't stop for nothing
Tell ‘em niggas stop the frontin’
Roll in front, so if you ever see teardrop, you better know we choppin’ onions
I’m spitting yellow bricks, we rarely stop for munchkins
That’s why I do not fuck with customs
I’m unaccustomed to these costumes
Know that if you cross the free, it just might cost you
I’m not a doctor or Kevin Costner
The way I’m dancing with these wolves, I pray I never lost a step
I keep it steppin’ nigga; that’s a bet

[Refrain 2: The Notorious B.I.G.]
Relax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke
Relax and take notes, relax and take notes, notes, notes, notes

[Hook: Mick Jenkins]
Put your motherfuckin’ hands in the air
And wave them like you just don’t care
I’m just showin’ love to my mothafuckin’ people
You can tell your mans we ain’t going nowhere
Now keep your hands in the motherfuckin' air
And wave them like you just don’t care
I’m just showin’ love to my mothafuckin’ people
You can tell your mans we ain’t going nowhere

[Refrain 1: Kirk Knight]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—get the—
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—
Yeah, yeah, yeah, get the—

[Verse 2: Mick Jenkins]
Jerome in the mothafuckin’ house now
Leather loafer steppin’, niggas better watch they mouth now
Leaving loaded lessons, pray for blessings when the doubts ‘round
Thousand Island stretchin’, I ain’t stressin’ no salad
I’m in this water where the sharks be, coming for the same place your thoughts be
Artsy, dirty mouth, I never do the flossing
Hardly, stuntin’ on the niggas that’s frontin’
I know they do not want it, I run over niggas, that’s punnin'
No, I ain’t trying to kick it, I’m cookin’ no bun in the oven
I need it on the stove, push it to the people off a cottage grove
Pot of gold, flooded more than Hollygrove
Mothafuck a Hollywood, never take a holiday, I’m spotting foes
Everywhere, know that I get very rare
Faced the God, what’s up Based God? I’m pacing hot
Tracing opps, know your enemy, control your energy
Don’t slip with niggas that pretend to be, only kin of me
Can call me blood, even a friendly can see the love
We do it for the free and keep it up
Tell your niggas they can keep the hate
Tell my friends I appreciate, the value never depreciate

[Refrain 3: Joey Bada$$]
This for my niggas, who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild
We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out
It’s been a minute, I’ve been chillin’ on the pile
Right, right, and to my crooks
From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook
Right, right

[Verse 3: Joey Bada$$]
Put your fucking hands up in the air
Or you gon' have to lay low when I motherfucking spray ya
This ain’t no game like Sega, don’t be a hero
I’m with my good fellas and we ‘bout to Rob DiNero
Give me the pesos, give me the Euros, give me the dollars
Give me the say so if these niggas want the drama
If I call my partners up, body bags is popping up
Keep popping shit, we pop the trunk, make you niggas popular
Hit him between his oculars, what the fuck is popping, cuz?
Super Saiyan like I opened 47 chakras up
Pussy hoes we knocking up, these flows keep stocking up
As long as I’m rhyming, I'm Ben Wallace on your wallets, uh
My true shottas go blocka, blocka
Soul shocking with the fire, probably light your block up
Stop your blood clot crying, the pussy boy there dying
It’s a cold, cold world, I think these niggas need the iron
Like, "Blaow"

[Bridge: Joey Bada$$]
How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king of them now
Niggas jocking my style, I been all on the road
I been checking out the shows, I been fucking your hoes, like blap

How you like me now?
It's the motherfucking Brooklyn king of them now
Niggas biting my style, I been all on the road
I been checking out the shows, I been fucking your hoes

[Refrain 3: Joey Bada$$]
This for my niggas, who be chillin’ with them killers in the wild
We gettin’ high ‘til we bug the fuck out
It’s been a minute, I’ve been chillin’ on the pile
Right, right, and to my crooks
From Chi-town all the way to Flatbush
We get wild if you give us that look
Hit you with the follow up and the right hook
Right, right

[Produced by: Kirk Knight]