Prada bag packed, 420 dunks
Lighting up some stuff that leave you smelling like a skunk
And I ain't trying to front, I'm just trying to spit truths
I got it in the bag, to the game, I make moves
I'm a mutherfucker baby, fucked your mother maybe
She wanted to lay me, she's Jack dick crazy
I can make your girl say she likes me more than you
What did you expect when you treat her like a whore for you
Now she be like "hold me", she don't even know me
Jack The Ripper, slip in, and you know I get it cozy
Yeah you know we rep Co.Z
Jack and Ms. Chaos, first name Zoë
What you gon', what you gon', what you gon' do?
When Jack The Ripper come and spit some disses at you
You should listen, slit your wrists, and leave your misses unmarried
I'ma a pick her up and sit her in my truck that so scary
And we're sitting on some big thangs, bumping Wayne or Jigga
I show your dame my dick she thinks I come from Africa
Yeah I got a jet, but I think my truck in quicker
Ever when I rap along to Wayne I never say...
Crackah, feeling myself, Dre comma Mac
Chill chillin with these bitches like who? Like Jack
Like oooh that's phat, boy do that rap
Girl you should see Jack when he move that cat
I'ma make the putty purr, getting down to the dirt
Stay grounded, crazy but down to earth
Yeah, I'm from Providence, yeah I'm from Providence
Yeah I'm Providence, East Side
Find me rolling up a blunt, let's ride
And I thank Wayne for letting me bite a couple lines
Getting blunted in the G55
And I thank Wayne for letting me bite a couple rhymes
So I bite a couple lines, I bite a couple rhymes
I write a bit of mine, then thank Wayne
Yo Don, let's get some ganj and some Dom Perignon
Let's drink that shit, and light that that shit up in my bong
If hip hops dead then what the fuck our these songs