[Mr. J]

this section is mine, I don't need to rhyme, I don't need to make sense, I don't need time, I don't need green, I don't need lime, I don't need lemons, I don't need dimes, I paint shit gold til' hatred shows, you mistaken though, you don't want to fuck with Satan yo, I take the cake, I take the bowl, I take a hit, then make it glow, I make you shine, I make you known, I bring you up, I take you home, I wrap you up, I make you roll, put the heater to your dome, wrap hemp & put weed to your throat, as I'm seizin' the rope, launch you from a window & see you elope, I don't need another second, I could go without repercussion, you'd prolly use any one of my lines to get a by in the NBL, you fish in a barrel sunk in the ground, idiot you know this isn't ending well