Jam Master J lyrics

[Intro]
Talk to me, I talk back
Ayy, talk to me nice
Let’s talk about it

[Verse 1]
I got that fire water, n*gga want that smoke? I’m a fire starter
Shining like a beacon, next weekend I might fly to Florida
Hoping that my plug who got the cocaine can supply my order
Seen a couple trinkets up his ears I should buy my daughter
Down in G.I., n*ggas call me Joe but I’m more Sergeant Slaughter
Dropped my buffs off at Hutch, had to get my Cartis soldered
My target audience, they thought that I had called it quits
But that’s rhetorical, was on Memorial with Walt and Chris
Counting balled up cash with them playmakers
227 fugitive, U of M, Great Lakеr
Way the work wet, double cup, full of Maybеlline
Plate looking like some shaving cream on a straight razor
Unky Ben’s skin popping Rs, he a H banger
Auntie got a stent in her heart on a pacemaker
Whip a ki into a delicacy, I’m a taste maker
Health hazard on front of my cup, it’s a safe danger
Watelse

[Chorus]
Auntie Debbie want a one-and-one
Pressing up the sketty, mixing fetty with the bubbleyum
Trying to double up, uncle Eddie want a graham cracker
Trying to spend 100 bucks then I gotta serve jam after
It’s the king of rock, but they call me the Jam Master
Backseat of the Cullinan, counting up them band rackers
Shooting jams, moving grams, I’m a yam smacker
It’s Jam Master J, a.k.a. the Jam Master
[Verse 2]
Hurt me to find out that he don’t own his damn masters
I don’t hit women but I’m quick to let my hand slap her
Still on the one, I am talking ‘bout no Lancaster
f*ck it, let’s shoot it out, see who open up the slam faster
Package man like a Packers fan, I’m a head tapper
Grand champ, Amtrakker, 10:08 Saran wrapper
Bird flee in with the film flackers
If you touch it barehanded, just make sure to wash your hands after
For them blue blans, I can get you flew flammed
To all you little stupids, I never been no damn rapper
Big dummy, sell dope, rob, kill, get money
Sip drank, f*ck whole Tonys, let her man cash it
Fully blue Benz cost me forty-two grand
So much money, you can’t even compute it like a scam hacker
In the back of the Bach, neck a thousand graham crackers
Best believe if I ain’t take her down then my mans caught it
Let’s get it

[Chorus]
Auntie Debbie want a one-and-one
Pressing up the sketty, mixing fetty with the bubbleyum
Trying to double up, uncle Eddie want a graham cracker
Trying to spend 100 bucks then I gotta serve jam after
It’s the king of rock, but they call me the Jam Master
Backseat of the Cullinan, counting up them band rackers
Shooting jams, moving grams, I’m a yam smacker
It’s Jam Master J, a.k.a. the Jam Master
[Outro]
It is known that many pimps
Though they like to describe themselves as gentlemen of leisure
In fact, do work at pushing and dealing in drugs