Full Metal Jackit Jump Off lyrics

[Intro: Freddie Gibbs]
Yo, before my grandfather died he told me: "if you ain't gon' sh*t, get off the pipe"
And I ain't know what he meant right then and there but I guess he sayin': "you gon' do som', do it one hunnid percent or don't do nothin' at all"
When I was 19 I started doin' this rap sh*t and I be killin' it ever since
It's time to unload on y'all n*ggas
Yeah, uh
I know y'all used it already, uh
But y'all didn't rip it like Freddie, uh
Yeah, Freddie gangsta
Here we go, Full Metal Jackit, here we go

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Ayo, dipset, dipset, nah Freddie rips sets
Snatch jewels off your neck, leave your clique wet
Y'all flow drive but my flow's is liquid
Let this fluid run in yo' veins and get addicted
I'm a crook n*gga, I smack n*ggas wit' scraps
And crack n*ggas wit' gats and jack n*ggas for tracks
You dudes talk sh*t, tryna mentally haze me
But those cheap shots never could phase me, they could never amaze me
Your bullsh*t never could move me
You gassed off gangsta flicks, you live in the movies
This n*gga was talkin' sh*t until I pulled my weapon
Shot him in the park, now he's a playground legend
Ugh, that n*gga Freddie Gibbs doin' boys ugly
Illest in the cheese, other rappers can't touch me
You thinkin' otherwise, go against some other guys
They don't wanna battle me, they stomach filled wit' butterflies
You can't label my music as just "urban"
I touch a lot of people like I'm preachin' a sermon
Spittin' sick is a gift, I've been blessed by the lord
Been the illest since they snipped my umbilical cord n*gga
[Interlude: Finger Roll + (Freddie Gibbs)]
Yo, what the f*ck is up man? (preach)
Gary, Indiana, Chi-Town man (tell 'em som')
Y'all know better represent my boy Freddie Gibbs spittin' that hot sh*t (let's go)
Come on

[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
Yo, I'm the deal so a lot of labels wanna recruit me
I got rank in the game n*gga, you should salute me
Stand at ease when I rap, it's a breeze when I rap
You fat, you can barely f*ckin' breathe when you rap
I ain't the biggest dude but my rhymes push a lot of weight
Go and do some exercise, lyrically you outta shape
But on the other hand, I'm nicely built
So on or off the mic you might get killed
I swear to God you don't want no part of me
I spit that sick sh*t that clog yo' arteries
I have yo' ass gaspin', holdin' yo' chest
And leave yo' body in a state of cardiac arrest woah
Rap for you is a waste of time
Ain't nobody gon' buy you like that P-Miller clothing line
Or an album from No Limit
This is no gimmick, when I spit it's so prolific
I ain't worried about these local cats
I only listen to a lil' bit of local rap
Cause these cats try to diss you behind ya back
But they really want you to rap one of they tracks ha
Nah, I listen to a couple of dudes but f*ck rap man I'd rather bump rhythm and blues
Like some Isley Brothers, some Frankie Beverly and Maze, a little Stevie Wonder, or some Marvin Gaye
Ugh, you talkin' sh*t I ignore you chumps
No Tamin' and we ain't got no love for punks
And you know that we be makin' them hits
Finger Roll make the beat, I write the rhymes while I'm takin' a sh*t
Then I, hit the booth and I'm ready to spit
Freddie the sh*t, all the b*tches on my di*k
Cause I shine and they see me glow
b*tches wanna give me ass cause the see me on the T.V. show
Man just wait until my album drop
I'ma have this whole city on lock, cause my album's hot
And i know that y'all been waitin' a while
So I'mma hit you with this Full Metal Jackit like Private Pyle, ugh
[Outro: Finger Roll]
Yo, what the f*ck is up
If you don't know what the f*ck is up then back the f*ck up
Full Metal Jackit blastin' at y'all n*ggas for the 2004
Freddie Gibbs, Finger Roll lacin' this sh*t, holdin' it down
Puttin' ya voices on his that hot sh*t
sh*t's hot man, but y'all go ahead and chillout man
I'mma go take a sh*t, holla at ya boy man
Freddie Gibbs, 2-double-O-4 ya lil b*tch
Ugh, muthaf*cka