Jazz Rendition lyrics

by

Devin The Dude


[Intro]
And it's like that for the nine trey. Check the script n*gga

[Verse One: Blind Rob]
From the ash on my toes to the stubble on my chin
Here's the beat and the cuts [?] brought out of my pen
When I be cooling in my [?]
You better step the f*ck back
Shoot like a gat got more swing than a black jack
Cause I hit hard like an automobile accident
[?]
And all the hip hop and records on the count of three
I never claimed to be the perfect or the best MC
But I just flaunt the styles to let you know that I can wreck it
I make you say, "Hmm? What? Hold up a second."
And just give me the mic, get up [?]
[?] to the back of your brain
So who me? The real G
Be like the next man, I can't stand to be like Mike
You got me f*cked up with the next man
So ah, give me the [?]
And kick the fly sh*t, vibe sh*t in the nine trey fools
So now you know how I flow and watch me go
Step back and give me some room or watch the Quest after show
From the east coast down to Louisiana
[?] but don't dance like the Hammer
But I slam a microphone check one, two
You wonder how I do it, lay down the Squad [?]
You call me off beat
You call me unique
Whatever the case may be, it's like this see you on the jazz rendition

[Verse Two: Blind Rob]
It's the Quest who wanna flex so bring the tec's
When I kill an MC I go to the next
Buck buck yo' ass down with the motherf*cking one, two
Step up in the square if you wanna get something bro
I don't really know why they doubt that I am skilled
Taking me for granted now what's the goddamn deal? Huh
They just don't know that I'm a pro so there's no way that you can take me
And I don't need a hacker so don't even try to fade me
Damn it seems I have to prove myself every motherf*cking day
You made me talk this way
So back off, slack off, let me get my nuts off
I take you and your crew to eat a di*k and make you break north
Raise about me son I ain't scared to get 'em up
You feel froggy jump, I break you off something f*cked up
But don't get me wrong I ain't gon' lie, I ain't no tough guy
Just a kid getting paid for being real fly
I'll let you know that I'm the sh*t
With a forty ounce of Bull and a ten bag of floppy discs
Sitting in the room making beats all day
Like my man Showbiz we be Diggin In The Crates
Styles finds a break and then we scoop it
Lay it down on the EPS and loop it
How's about that? It's phat, you like yo you gotta have it G
Five bills for my man and the other half for me
Yeah, on the jazz rendition

[Outro]
And I'd like to give shouts out to my n*gga. DJ Styles. Peace. My man DJ Premier at GangStarr. What up? And oh yeah, hahahah...Mike Dean...you funky playing b*tch you. What up? Hahah. Yeah. Let me see. To the hood. Of course the hood. Let me see. Somebody else I forgot. Oh yeah. My man N.O. Joe. And I'm outta like 8-Track tapes. Peace!

[Devin The Dude]
After this big ole' square we'll be right back

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