Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Jackpot, artist - U-God. Date of issue: 29.03.2018
Song language: English
Jackpot |
| The rip of the jackpot, cheddar cheese stacka |
| Trip off the black crip, why I’m safe cracka |
| I have you leapin' like a greenbay packa |
| Newest sensation off the meat racka |
| I had to mention it, I knew it would attract her |
| It was all cool, I was waiting for the after |
| Book a jackpot, pick your own chapter |
| Beastin' and feastin' and livin' like a trappa |
| Shit stay spinnin' like a Mexican gattlin' |
| Pour the … shit, just a piece of the action |
| Yeah you know about that Fatal Attraction |
| Brand new shit that was made for crashin' |
| The palma lade, the marmalade, that was for maxin' |
| Knucklehead niggas need John the Baptist |
| So get it up like ransom |
| I need play everyday like the National Anthem |
| You don’t have to like it 'cause it’s good |
| Oh shit, I’m sittin' in my crib, I’m writing rhymes in the hood |
| Drunk niggas misundersood |
| You know them sober mother fuckers better knock on wood |
| I put it out cause its ample |
| Them greedy G’s drop dead off the 2 pic sample |
| And then you grab a whole handful |
| You run slam up the block… (?) and jackpot pamphlets |
| And don’t question the answer, my word brain diagnosed like terminal cancer |
| And people thinkin' I’m a phantom, like I’m all made up like Marilyn Manson |
| A lil' nigga, you my grandson |
| Cause if you bite my shit, son, you gon' need a transfer |
| You know jojo was no dancer |
| I need play everyday like the National Anthem |
| So get it up like ransom |
| I need play everyday like the National Anthem |
| Camp Callaway on a Billie Holiday |
| See niggas couldn’t see me Donny Hathaway |
| They say Wott, them niggas heard you three blocks away |
| You know I smoke cats like three packs a day |
| There’s no gizmo, sashmo (?) is armstrong |
| Break beat, one take, lean on a horn |
| Scratch my brick and I can get the main ingredient |
| Slam my door and I be reaching for that Commodore |
| Everybody wants a good goodie |
| You know another black teen got buried in a hoodie |
| Some thought … (?) live in a pink bubble |
| He said he did it for the team, just stay outta trouble |
| See Charlie had a parker (?), Reggina rang a bell |
| I had Anita bakin' cake in the back stairwell |
| All’s forgiven, welcome to Thanksgivin' |
| Order me three Bernie Macs, three six-packs of Old Gold |
| Make sure it’s Nat King Cole |
| Make sure it’s Nat King Cole |
| Make sure it’s Nat King Cole |
| I got the hot shit cookin' on the stove |