Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jack Mode, artist - Cognito. Date of issue: 04.11.2002
Song language: English
Jack Mode |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitch, you wouldn’t understand |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitcch, you wouldn’t understand |
| I roll my dice, and collect the profit |
| We all got cars, but I’m the first to Gucci top it |
| Swing through on the low, scoop a hot bitch |
| She don’t suck dick, but trust me nigga, I got this |
| Gotta school it to the mob life |
| Me and Cog life |
| The H2 with the fog lights |
| I gotta show her how to twist that green |
| That’s 20 karots right there, baby |
| This that green |
| Get your homie, ride your rhyms |
| Your baby mama seeing us, like she riding with them |
| They got Proddas on, better hide your Tims |
| 6 months ago, we had pies for Tim |
| Fuck Chevy niggas, Imma glide in the Benz |
| Sit in my car in the yard, inside is slim |
| We catch you snitchin, bitchin, tryna bate mine |
| Hating cause my rhyms up to your waistline |
| Boss! |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitch, you wouldn’t understand |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitcch, you wouldn’t understand |
| Willy! |
| Guns up, niggas showin their feels |
| Pop back in your face, niggas saying they prayers |
| Go to your mama, she crying them tears |
| Cause I’m in the club high as fuck, standin on chairs |
| Golf cap, white T, 36 inch ryms |
| Slap a bitch nigga if he steppin to me |
| Please, I might kill me a nigga |
| High and not thinking, so Imma shoot me the trigger |
| Guttermental, race to put a bling in my dental |
| It’s fine with me, put a dent in the rental |
| You’s a hoe, find a hole in your temple |
| Stop saving these hoes, fuck them if they don’t swallo |
| I be getting more head than the legend of Sleepy Hollo |
| This don’t stop, like the mountains in Collarato |
| Me and Cog together, that’s like Manny Fresh and Wayne |
| Poll boy till I’m out of here |
| Still St. Lewis, it’s getting hot in here |
| But no Nelly, It’s just Brisco, Krippin |
| I’m in a class, ain’t shit you can tell me |
| Adalesent with feds couldn’t tell me |
| While I skipped town, I put it down with pounds |
| Barol to a fuck boy, before clowning around |
| Wanna feel me, but listen, give me 50 feet, I’m too deep |
| Pop it long, cause I keep the block |
| Hoes come flock to every spot |
| Paranoid, pop it, make a Glock storm |
| Can’t stop, won’t stop till the locks on |
| Catch me rolling on a fish or gater |
| to fuck later |
| damb, that for later |
| Police hoes, and them haters |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitch, you wouldn’t understand |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitcch, you wouldn’t understand |
| Here I go again, and I brought a theam for you hustlers |
| Bout to stop the game, like a chearch usher |
| When you see me, you like «this nigga competition» |
| When I see you, I’m like «this nigga, he be trippin» |
| Only do strays |
| Push trucks |
| Leave you dead in your face |
| I talk gang, but I walk it too |
| Think a nigga playin, Kanzis City in this bitch too |
| Put your game on, and I ain’t talking Madin 3000 |
| I’m talkin bout a bank account with Os longer than your clothes |
| Real niggas put holes in your Sean Joes |
| Shoot first, leave the questions for them blue folks |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitch, you wouldn’t understand |
| Jack mode, that’s how we react to things |
| It’s a poll boy thing, bitcch, you wouldn’t understand |