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Jot - 23' (Freestyle) Lyrics



Jot - 23' (Freestyle) Lyrics




Ayy, look, prolly thuggin, runnin' through the hood with them pants down
Huggin' blocks, really wasn't nothin' but the love of glocks
Keep em' puzzled by the piece of bread, we just made a flock of birds
Tuck some tails, you can tell I fed em' many shots

Better not, fit that kinda glove, or else you tryna box
Cause niggas punchin' clocks, or puttin' rings on bitches in the pro
Jects, I'm in this fitted vest, I'll double check
If he really real, no tex-mex, and I flip shit like a tech deck

Got one two, like a mic check
Shit I bet a young nigga on that f*ckin' Mick Vick
Cause my dawgs on that fight shit
Yo dawgs only wanna bite shit, nigga
Type shit, okay

Whose life gets turned right around into a crock pot
Get cooked slow with this burn flow, heater put em' in a little hot spot
Jot, write a nigga down, that's the death note
No anime, and I may spray until bullets don't animate
Andele, Andele in the ghetto, brothers at ornery

But this other real mellow fella, born to be gettin' dinero
Walkin' straight and narrow paths, only task
Tryna push and pedal by sellin' his demos, f*ck a mask
He gon' show his real side, he too kind, not a two-faced

Bout all truths, not one lie, I done see my brothers with my own eyes
Tryna kill a cop, sell a rock, peal his top
Woulda, coulda, should he spin the op
Wet the block up, turn to wipe out, bring the pipe out

He a known plumber, comin' out the gutter like he killer croc
Straight up out the mud, like he clay face
Product of a nigga comin' from a place
Where you save face and you in a rougher, bigger background

What's a Macbook to a Mac round, how does that sound
It's a bad look for these rap clowns ain't a dad proud
Look, they been waitin' for another downfall
I could fall down and I'm still up

It's a light skin for the black crown
They been passed down for a generation in my bloodline
No hesitation in a hood mind
The watch shining, I could kill time

We gon' pull up to the f*ckin' spot
Niggas gon' lean back with a wok
All of my sick shit need a doc
Look at the chain, doesn't it fit
Niggas'll be ashamed that it

Cost me a lot
Ain't no stoppin, we gon' plan on droppin' every
Okay, keep a switch that's on me
So niggas know how I really play
Can't see the talk and the drama
My baby mama is Tina Fey
Dissing ain't how I 30 Rock
Stop the spending on hoes, you know
It's cost me a lot

Still livin' in God's timing
Don't mind the bomb tickin
How I'm livin
Gotta do with whatever your mom givin
Step up to that plate
You just pickin' up all the shit we dishin
Told you J.O.T. was the hope
Now get your fountain wishes

Nigga, now get your fountain wishes
Hold on, nigga, what you say?
Uh

Got me laughin' what they say to me
They got me actin' like MJ
Callin' on me 23
Nigga
I'm gone
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

Ayy, look, prolly thuggin, runnin' through the hood with them pants down
Huggin' blocks, really wasn't nothin' but the love of glocks
Keep em' puzzled by the piece of bread, we just made a flock of birds
Tuck some tails, you can tell I fed em' many shots

Better not, fit that kinda glove, or else you tryna box
Cause niggas punchin' clocks, or puttin' rings on bitches in the pro
Jects, I'm in this fitted vest, I'll double check
If he really real, no tex-mex, and I flip shit like a tech deck

Got one two, like a mic check
Shit I bet a young nigga on that f*ckin' Mick Vick
Cause my dawgs on that fight shit
Yo dawgs only wanna bite shit, nigga
Type shit, okay

Whose life gets turned right around into a crock pot
Get cooked slow with this burn flow, heater put em' in a little hot spot
Jot, write a nigga down, that's the death note
No anime, and I may spray until bullets don't animate
Andele, Andele in the ghetto, brothers at ornery

But this other real mellow fella, born to be gettin' dinero
Walkin' straight and narrow paths, only task
Tryna push and pedal by sellin' his demos, f*ck a mask
He gon' show his real side, he too kind, not a two-faced

Bout all truths, not one lie, I done see my brothers with my own eyes
Tryna kill a cop, sell a rock, peal his top
Woulda, coulda, should he spin the op
Wet the block up, turn to wipe out, bring the pipe out

He a known plumber, comin' out the gutter like he killer croc
Straight up out the mud, like he clay face
Product of a nigga comin' from a place
Where you save face and you in a rougher, bigger background

What's a Macbook to a Mac round, how does that sound
It's a bad look for these rap clowns ain't a dad proud
Look, they been waitin' for another downfall
I could fall down and I'm still up

It's a light skin for the black crown
They been passed down for a generation in my bloodline
No hesitation in a hood mind
The watch shining, I could kill time

We gon' pull up to the f*ckin' spot
Niggas gon' lean back with a wok
All of my sick shit need a doc
Look at the chain, doesn't it fit
Niggas'll be ashamed that it

Cost me a lot
Ain't no stoppin, we gon' plan on droppin' every
Okay, keep a switch that's on me
So niggas know how I really play
Can't see the talk and the drama
My baby mama is Tina Fey
Dissing ain't how I 30 Rock
Stop the spending on hoes, you know
It's cost me a lot

Still livin' in God's timing
Don't mind the bomb tickin
How I'm livin
Gotta do with whatever your mom givin
Step up to that plate
You just pickin' up all the shit we dishin
Told you J.O.T. was the hope
Now get your fountain wishes

Nigga, now get your fountain wishes
Hold on, nigga, what you say?
Uh

Got me laughin' what they say to me
They got me actin' like MJ
Callin' on me 23
Nigga
I'm gone
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jordan Hutchinson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Jot



Jot - 23' (Freestyle) Video
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Performed By: Jot
Language: English
Length: 2:36
Written by: Jordan Hutchinson
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