[Verse 1: Jet Perry]
Who the f** said Jet can't spit?
Shout out to all the haters; they can chew on bricks
Shout out to all my skaters doing them kick flips
Turn my sh** off if I'm explicit
Hate what rap is: so I bought a set of retro's
Young boy got more tracks than a metro
Hello! They say I should quit: Oh hell no
My lyrics' too fire just to boil
I won't quit rap 'till I'm underneath the soil
An adolescent peasant, grampa' is reverent: so I'm guessin'
Oh lord! My presence is a blessin'
Drive for the salad with the dressing, and the girlies undressin'
I'm your rapper's favorite rapper; matter fact motherf**k your favorite rapper
Sinister lyricist, y'all should be feelin' it, and if you ain't feelin' it; feel it in your spirit
And hear this sh**
I'm so groovy, I wish i had groupies
I took your girl for lunch, dinner, and a movie
And after all that; I even let her do me
Inside your car, oops, I mean your hooptie
And I don't really like loops unless they're fruity
And I dont really like b**hes that are always moody
And I must admit, I've never received a nudie
But I'd rather see them in person than on a screen
I think I'm crazy, I've really really lost it
Don't stop having s** unless she's exhausted
The CT cat, that's just stating facts, trying to make a living off this Hip-Hop/Rap
It's that boom-bap mix with new rap, I'm a stupid cat; but my flow is phat
My black skin isn't why I'm rapping; I happen to be rapping because rapping is my pa**ion
So you ask "Young Jet, you still rap?"
Like I've said before "You're ears must be spoiled, I'm not quitting rap until I'm underneath the soil"
[Bridge: Jet Perry]
Boom, boom, boom, boom-pop
Hear the base bumping from ya motherf**ing rooftops
When my crew stops, you gon' see us coming from ya motherf**ing rooftops