(feat. Fred Money) Okay (DipSet) Writer... JR Writer that is But you niggaz already know that man History in the making There's a lot of things you niggaz don't know about me, man Let me put you on though, man Well, I was making sales At the age of twelve Pack margarine, black laundry, case of shells Never Dave Chappelle Half baking, half faking, I was cash-chasing Let me put you on Before a hooker's song I wrote Or would perform I was pushing strong, you niggaz cooked it wrong Ain't have 'em hooked for long I hit the hood wit' form Before Killa ever said "Let me put you on" Flipping, listen baby I was never dumb Sitting in the lobby like I'm waiting for some mail to come Come see me, believe me I got it Girl I'm with some chicken-head but my B is exotic Cause I'm seen in the projects with the top low Glocked though, that'll leave more holes in your body than a Quatro That's a Maserati pappo, stop slow You don't really know me that well, let me put you on I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest (so what?) This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to this vet Listen closer, I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best JR Writer, the dude in the flesh, let me put you on How I used to, go to school in class stuntin' Back bubblin' like come and get a pack buzzin' Ask cousin, brick up in the class oven Had every other student up in cooking class buggin' Box cutter, keep thinkin' I ain't stash nothing While you was cuttin' class nigga, I was class cuttin' In the schoolyard like let me catch a cat frontin' I'm a slap something, let me put you on I hit so much teachers with the lean The principle, had to call a meeting with the dean But that's just cause they wanted a piece of what I seen Similar to gymnastics how I keep it on the beam Had everybody in they classes getting high Since elementary it's been a fact that I am fly I tell the customers put the cash up in the sky And treat 'em like a bad comedian Slap 'em with a pie Ha, all day in the lobby with piff Still, sitting around like I gotta be rich So me and ?? gotta pull some robberyshit And drag frontin' niggaz outta they whips Let me put you on I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to me yet You need practice, plus you average, get in tuned with this threat Fred Money, excuse me I'm next, let me put you on I'm up next, yes the name is Fred Money (I'm up) I'm waiting my spot now watch how I shot dummies Blame Writer cause the swagger brushed off something The closet a jungle, gators and some wet monkeys Look ya haters love me, bitches get no paper from me Pull up my sleeve at midnight and it turning sunny Before Writer was spitting, it was robbin' or sellin' With him from a ski maskers to a Diplomat skully I ain't frontin', I'm tellin' straight facts Decided to quit school cause I had to wear slacks Nothing to do with clippers when I push them wigs back Was handed the same shit: either rap or push packs Thought about it, I ain't hustlin' for scraps Driving to the top, that's only bringin' me flats Got a pen, wrote a rhyme, J says its crack A few mixtapes later, he like "Fred, let me put you on" I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest (so what?) This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to the vet Listen closer, I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best JR Writer, the dude in the flesh, let me put you on
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Copy to Clipboard: (feat. Fred Money) Okay (DipSet) Writer... JR Writer that is But you niggaz already know that man History in the making There's a lot of things you niggaz don't know about me, man Let me put you on though, man Well, I was making sales At the age of twelve Pack margarine, black laundry, case of shells Never Dave Chappelle Half baking, half faking, I was cash-chasing Let me put you on Before a hooker's song I wrote Or would perform I was pushing strong, you niggaz cooked it wrong Ain't have 'em hooked for long I hit the hood wit' form Before Killa ever said "Let me put you on" Flipping, listen baby I was never dumb Sitting in the lobby like I'm waiting for some mail to come Come see me, believe me I got it Girl I'm with some chicken-head but my B is exotic Cause I'm seen in the projects with the top low Glocked though, that'll leave more holes in your body than a Quatro That's a Maserati pappo, stop slow You don't really know me that well, let me put you on I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest (so what?) This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to this vet Listen closer, I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best JR Writer, the dude in the flesh, let me put you on How I used to, go to school in class stuntin' Back bubblin' like come and get a pack buzzin' Ask cousin, brick up in the class oven Had every other student up in cooking class buggin' Box cutter, keep thinkin' I ain't stash nothing While you was cuttin' class nigga, I was class cuttin' In the schoolyard like let me catch a cat frontin' I'm a slap something, let me put you on I hit so much teachers with the lean The principle, had to call a meeting with the dean But that's just cause they wanted a piece of what I seen Similar to gymnastics how I keep it on the beam Had everybody in they classes getting high Since elementary it's been a fact that I am fly I tell the customers put the cash up in the sky And treat 'em like a bad comedian Slap 'em with a pie Ha, all day in the lobby with piff Still, sitting around like I gotta be rich So me and ?? gotta pull some robberyshit And drag frontin' niggaz outta they whips Let me put you on I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to me yet You need practice, plus you average, get in tuned with this threat Fred Money, excuse me I'm next, let me put you on I'm up next, yes the name is Fred Money (I'm up) I'm waiting my spot now watch how I shot dummies Blame Writer cause the swagger brushed off something The closet a jungle, gators and some wet monkeys Look ya haters love me, bitches get no paper from me Pull up my sleeve at midnight and it turning sunny Before Writer was spitting, it was robbin' or sellin' With him from a ski maskers to a Diplomat skully I ain't frontin', I'm tellin' straight facts Decided to quit school cause I had to wear slacks Nothing to do with clippers when I push them wigs back Was handed the same shit: either rap or push packs Thought about it, I ain't hustlin' for scraps Driving to the top, that's only bringin' me flats Got a pen, wrote a rhyme, J says its crack A few mixtapes later, he like "Fred, let me put you on" I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest (so what?) This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to the vet Listen closer, I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best JR Writer, the dude in the flesh, let me put you on
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