[U.F.O. Warning]:
'Ships of an Alien sort are approaching from the sky!'
'Radio contact has been attempted but cannot be established...'
'Instructions are to prepare for an attack by an...Unknown Emeny!'

[Jack of Co.Z]:
Get Co.Z
Company Z
You don't know me
We are not the same, I'm Jack of Co.Z


But you can call me John, government name
Crackah nuke a track, government bang
Word to Lybia, you're governments fucked
While I'm a G-Truck burning government bucks


Pull up and park in a Church handicapped spot
Butchie got the blunt, we go and pick up Popadop
On some real shit, we spark it and have a talk
"This world is unfair, this shit has got to stop"

But then I got blunted so of course I just forgot
While Butchie pull his brim down I'm waving at the cops
Crackahs asking me "You like your music going boom, huh?
You know a lot of Africans?" Nope, just Fumbah

Also Niwa, Saadi, Hani, Chucky Gordon–
(Well he's South African, but that shit ain't important)
Fuck Aparthide though, honkey that's retarded
Crackahs think we fixxed ourselves, we're just gettting started

International dorm wit Aamer and Adeel
Smoking on some doja, that shit hits you for real
Nehal telling me I gotta hit em with some rhyming
Drop the beat bitch I go hard, diamond 


I'm not a star, somebody lied
I just got a fancy car, G55
And my mommy's Maserati still with the same hottie
Vegetarian model with a yoga type body


Yeah I beat a pussy but I'm still pro PETA
No red meat but this chicken, I'ma eat her
Let it out the cage, like Kahlo, I freed her
Playing triple x games, I'm a pro skeeter


I'm not a rapper, somebody's stupid
I'm a performance actor, bitch you shoulda knew it
They call me arrogant, yes, but I'm the truest
They're modest and dishonest and no one's playing their music


Fuck em, but pause, cause I don't want em getting action
Everybody lie too much, get a grip, traction
Why are we in Lybia? To flex and get some oil bitch
You thought it's human rights? Shit, I spoiled it

I just wish Obama would tell it like Rick Ross
"Ayo Ghadfi, don't test, I'ma boss
What? Oh leh do it, Oil dealing music
Don't make me go pop a trunk and drop another nuke bitch" (BOMA)


I'm not alive, I'm atoms animated
Is God responsible for this? Maybe Santa made it
My soul's the only thing I own, and you can't invade it
But lemme just break it down, dipshit, granulate it

Talk smart, best believe he go dumb though
Ivy League mixtape rapper at your front door
Brown is just bureaucracy so I tryin' front yo
But if your mom don't like the flow...well that's a dumb hoe


(OOOOoooo) What?
Your mom's a stupid whore
Whether on salary or staying home and doing chores
Stop whinning, that was just a 'yo mama joke'
Bitch I blaspheme at 'em, like dumping on the pope


Jack of Co.Z's fly, you're a nat bitch; SWAT ya like Specials Weapons and Tactics
Watch it (oooo) shit that's drastic, mixtape coming, bitch you betta blast it
Find my Soundcloud, find me Dat Piff, up in Young Orchard high and plastard
Drug test? Bitch I'm passed it, shrooms ex weed coke molly and acid

Think you rap fast? You're a joint, I pass it, my truck hits 60 in five and a half bitch
Empty the gas ask when he gunna crash it–HAAAAAAA! Gasp bitch
All you get from this dude: laughter. I'm a bit fish poop: bass turd.
Weed like a field dude: pasture. All the kids feel dude: pastor.

...........but I ain't done yet
You think your dog are sick? That's a dumb vet
Is that sign language, or just a dumb set?
Now which label has a check that I can come get?


Jack@Brown.edu, Get Co.Z
C O  Dot Z, that's me and Zoë
And while your at it, check Gripp at glassEyeballs
Limited liability, so this shit ain't my fault...

Jack of Co.Z, leave a mic slain
You can call me John (...like Wayne)