Tag: Mick Jenkins

Mick Jenkins – Farm To Table (feat. Vic Mensa) [ Lyrics Letra] Letra Mick Jenkins Mick Jenkins – Farm To Table (feat. Vic Mensa) [ Lyrics Letra]
Aye bad bitch on my arm and she’s no bitch
Uh smoke straight from the farm I’m on my grow shit

Aye
Reposado to sip
How much I pour ya
She in the Oscar de la renta I might have to de la Hoya
Call my lawyer
Don’t even ask me
Nigga I came, fashionably late
Her style was conde nasty
That Pyrex
Wit tight neck I swallowed my breath
Hers was more of an architectural digest
I digress
Wit our chests we’d both get to speaking our minds
All kinda interior designs
Superior grapes from inferior vines
Switching time zones these is curious times
It’s loose noodles no furious spoons
Fuck the waves if I could bury the moon
I mean
Shit is getting very cartoon

I keep this bad bitch on my arm and she’s no bitch
Uh smoke straight from the farm I’m on my grow shit
No boat made our own waves
You hot or cold no lukewarm
Can’t have nobody folding
More coat hangers my way
No low hanging fruit here
I palm trees to the face
Won’t speak hate to my face
Y’all on some hoe shit

Bad bitch on my arm and she’s no bitch
Smoke straight the farm I’m on my grow shit

I smoke my own shit man (what’s it called?)

Oh you ain’t heard
Uh huh
This shit from farm to table, had to run it up
I never harmed an ankle
And a distribution chain so major I could start a label
We done got them ’93 boys hotter than Coral Gables
Sometimes I wish I could take a weekend off but I’m hardly able
Louis Vuitton liaisons Pierre Mas out of reach of the DA’s arms
And Paris fashion week for perceiving you rappers even having seats
It’s an unwopable waffle, the shit a masterpiece
Some fine art’s Master P
Sidebar cash is king, my large bag of dreams
My daddy went Yankee, his son slanging gasoline
A million in the first three months is like two billion streams
We blowing up like Israel did to Philistines
Gaza strip mobbing through Bethlehem and they rocking Ricks
They bent on us for the way they plundered the continent
Got the world buying plane tickets off of my Ghana trips
I’ve been walking it my nigga now let me talk my shit

Bad bitch on my arm and she’s no bitch
Uh 93 from the farm, I smoke my own shit

Lyrics, Letras, Paroles, Deutsche, Letras, Testi,Тексты, Texty, Norske, Текстови, Versuri, Persian, Liricí, Lirik, Nederlandse, Tagalog

Mick Jenkins – Pasta ( Lyrics ) Letra Mick Jenkins Mick Jenkins – Pasta ( Lyrics )
Aye
All I see is impostors
Niggas postures is al dente
Rarely kick it without a sensei
Just brick lay
We cut the cornerstone and scrape the
Excess Mortar wit a switchblade
Ain’t no pretty glass houses this way
Y’all got the thrift thang
All this secondhand smoke I’ll pass
Perpetually bitch made
Watch his second hand coast no dap
Niggas can miss me wit the swiss cheese
Gotta fill in those gaps
Don’t wanna see ceilings
Told niggas no cap
Don’t want any feelings I told the dentist no cap
No strap but he just as lethal
Desert eagle through the sands of time
No feathers feeble
I weathered storms and did the pantomime I rarely speak em
Empowered palpable hands
Talcum powdered when you greet him
We move discreetly it would seem that niggas barely take steps
You just don’t know I’m way more lowkey
Meet me on the base clef
I can’t stress
You niggas pray about it I’m the apex

I told niggas befo’
I’ll do a web of lies like Willem Defoe
Gotta look him in his eyes if you really wanna know

These niggas shapeshift
They make scenes
They like to act this shit don’t make sense
Playwrights these muthafuckas is on stages
I’m on the 50
I got a heisman trophy wit me
Stiff arm in my dickies
Rubber boots this shit gets slippery
I’m in no Bottega
A noble savage
I don’t want no betas in my circle
Omega Psi I got a couple dogs that’s purple
You’ll never know who wit me
Shit get thick on this side
All the growth been inside
I toss a roach and let the tints rise
I’m in my bitch ride
She whip that shit like it’s a big wheel
I’m good wit this vibe

I told niggas before
I’ll do a web of lies

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Mick Jenkins – 007 ( Lyrics Letra) Letra Mick Jenkins Mick Jenkins – 007 ( Lyrics Letra)
Aye
Niggas steppin on they own feet
They not bow legged
Toy Story’s we been toe tagging
Monsters Inc. we got the door stacking
Two sports nigga bo jackson
Uh
Two sports I’m on prime time
Green grass if I wine and dine nigga I’m havin’ what the goats havin’
Knots on me I got boat habits
Yachts if we talking wave making
We been wake boarding niggas still sleeping
Otto rocket I’m in x games mode y’all niggas
Sound like squid speakin’
Money hungry see em squid gamin’
Penny pinching nigga been scheming
Money penny I got bonds working

Told em this ain’t no time to die

Niggas from round the way
Bitches from round way
My peoples down to ride
We fucked around and found
A way out

This ain’t no time to die
Niggas from round the way
My peoples down to ride
We fucked around and found
A way out

Yea we fucked around and found way
We fucked around and found out

Only looking where the truth at
Follow me I got moose tracks
The right 2 cents is worth is 2 racks
I talk that old jazz a la Dave Brubeck
Push keys so dope made you sweat
C notes so sweet under flames made brûlée
Who let the dogs out
Watch niggas get maimed to death
Who left
We finna go all out
Albuterol gave em new breath
Wit Pump action
Dodge the the hate wit the same two step

Uhh

This ain’t no time to die
Niggas from round the way
Bitches from round way
My peoples down to ride
We fucked around and found
A way out

This ain’t no time to die
Niggas from round the way
My peoples down to ride
We fucked around and found
A way out
We fucked around and found
A way

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Mick Jenkins – Mop ( Lyrics Letra) Letra Mick Jenkins Mick Jenkins – Mop ( Lyrics Letra)

Since a shorty momma was kneading the dough
I been breaking bread
Grew up in the church
Did the stained glass
Fam I been breaking bad
In the breeze on some windbreaker shit
In these trees like I got a hidden dragon
The balance is evident
Avatar never outta my element
If I can I’m star trekking it too
I mean let’s be for real
Y’all can’t glow where my hue go
Or clock light years wit the hublot a nigga too far ahead
Too slow comin’ off a the line
They talk drag but it’s a marathon I thought he told you

I just keep mopping these flows

I just keep it clean as I’m spose
Fabric softener these niggas hoes
Fresh out the machine the way I seen niggas fold
I do my paper the same
Landscaping know my grass look greener
I ain’t gon’ say it’s the same
But you know shit ain’t always what it seems
It’s common French I stay schemin’
I ain’t playing them games
Whole thang just pyramid scheme
You never see but keep hearing these things
About the dirt that we did

I just keep mopping these flows

Yea I just keep mopping these flows

Who knows the chemicals shit got me exposed to
Fertilizer we just trying to grow
No pesticides you got weed out ya bros
Uncircumcised got extra skin in the game
A million more like me in the fold
That’s how I’m coming
I hustled when nigga didn’t have that’s how I’m bumming
A cash cow wit big calves thats
How we run it
Wherever we grazed
If I spend it its mail in rebate
I get it back
I need it asap
Yea

I need a mop I hit the water wit some ajax

Yea

I mean I feel like I’m just now stepping into
What I feel like is a full agency over my creativity
My artistry, my business, and even myself as a man
And I think it just takes time to get there you know
I don’t think that’s something anybody is gifted
When they become you know a man
Or when they find out who they are
Or step into an industry you know where expressin’ you know
The deepest parts of who they are
I think that’s a journey that you’re on and you know
Trying to rush that doesn’t get you anywhere
Except where you don’t wanna be fast you know, so
Allowing that process to be it
Allowing yourself to make mistakes and learn and grow from that
Understanding that its all molding you to get to where you’re going
Again, I just recognize there’s a lot of patience in that
So trying to have more of that

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Mick Jenkins – Guapanese Lyrics Letra Mick Jenkins Mick Jenkins – Guapanese ( Lyrics Lyrics)
Gotta let this bitch breathe

Uhh

They say money talks
These niggas let they money talk
Matta fact ion think I ever heard em speak
He got a funny a walk

They say money talk

Aye

All these niggas ever really talk about is money
I think all these niggas got to talk about is money
His mans locked up he can’t bond em out it’s funny
God forbid they chalk em out and find out it’s no money

Damn

It’s a stack of ones just like em and they hide behind a 20
Come outside
Ain’t nobody finna jump you
Gave us conclusions we didn’t even have to jump to
I know that Kutcher stopped but somebody else punk’d you
Manufactured beef you ain’t get this from no butcher shop
All my cash cows grass fed (you can) smell it when I come through
Pull up in some old school
Shit it make the hookers stop

Told her keep walking baby
I know you know them same dollars keep talking
Only the want the handicaps when we parking
Prolly won’t catch me snorkeling
Surface level shit put you deep water it’s
Shits crazy to see
Mutherfuckers sound crazy to me

But I guess we letting money talk

It sound much different than how niggas look
It feel so much different than how niggas walk

They say money talks
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Mick Jenkins – Smoke Break-Dance (Feat. JID, Prod. By Stoic) [Official Music Video] Lyrics
Intro: Mick Jenkins
And I (Uh)
And I
And I keep rollin’ up (Ooh, ooh), hm
And I keep rollin’ up

Chorus: Mick Jenkins
Weed blowin’ down, weed blowin’ up
Hot air in me, we goin’ up, still is
No feet goin’ up, fees goin’ up, we pourin’ up
We throwin’ up gang signs
Verse 1: Mick Jenkins
Trees going up in flames, find us a forest fire every smoke break
We opened up weak space, nigga, we gave our hangtime, we tryna reclaim time
We finna rebuild, no Home Depot with us, people with us that come from the FaceTime
Low-key like the bassline, got smoke and I keep rollin’ up
Yeah, I keep rollin’ up
Keep gettin’ high, beats gettin’ low, we gettin’ by
I can’t complain, I wouldn’t know how to make you feel me
I know they can smell me, though
I know they can see a motherfucker comin’ from a mile away
I ain’t sendin’ smoke signals, big smoke send signals either way, don’t it?
Put a eighth in it, motherfucker got some weight on it and some wax in it
Don’t play with it, all the way from concentrate with it, juice like fresh OJ
It’s the tangie that I stay with, soon as they hit it, I keep rollin’ up

Chorus: Mick Jenkins
Weed blowin’ down, weed blowin’ up
Hot air in me, we goin’ up, still is (Gas)
No feet goin’ up, fees goin’ up, we pourin’ up
We throwin’ up gang signs (We throwin’ up gang signs)

Post-Chorus: Mick Jenkins & JID
And I keep rollin’ up, huh
And I keep rollin’ up (Uh)

Verse 2: JID
I roll this one for the road, two for the show, three for the dough
3:45, got a fifty-piece from the wing spot (Geek-geek-geeked out my mind)
And I’m coming back with food and some ganja
But it’s only me and you in this ride (Look)
Just a little bitty piece of weed’ll make a nigga feel like he ain’t going off the deep end
I ain’t even been asleep in ‘bout a week (Mm-mm), didn’t even think about it
We was at the bottom, I was guided by the beats, guided by the guns, guided by the streets
Where the money? Said he got about a week to get it all, got him by a leash
Try to find a lil’ peace but the mystery to me is unsolved
Take a breather, hit the reefer, smoke cough through the blunt fog (Mm-mm)
Got a stash full of big gas, I can tell you what they run for
But I don’t trap so it won’t matter, everybody do a blunt toast
Like the white folks when they clink glasses, told my nigga at the front, “Toast”
So I move slow but I think faster (Mm-mm), 12 knocking at the front door, shh
Be quiet, keep passin’, I don’t wanna see nobody that I know and love layin’ in a deep casket
But through all the stress and madness (Mm-mm)
A nigga keep rollin’ up
Outro: Mick Jenkins
Gotta figure that the problem niggas got is mental
Lotta niggas figure shit is only incidental
Go figure, I’ma keep smoking this tree
Roll one mo’, up why not three?
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