Mick Jenkins
Jazz
[Intro]
Drink more water
Or you might die

[Verse 1]
Seven Nine, King Drive, you can picture me rollin'
Bending corners we was headed to the Rasta
N***a been blessed but a n***a been sick
And a n***a been stressed, so fuck it, I'm a doctor
Self-medicated, ginger ale in the champagne flutes
And I ain't celebratin'
Just cookin' up crack
Where presentation’s everything, tell ‘em wait 'til I plate it
Patience, I'm faded, like outdated denim
Hearin’ it like this ‘bout as rare as cicadas
The boy got some Miles Davis in him, talkin' all that jazz
Tellin' all that truth, n***a talk your shit
Better watch your mouth, better watch your back
Better choose the right way on some fork in the road shit
And, of course, the path less traveled
Fuck I look like followin' your footsteps?
Don't fumble, 'cause this ain't Sunday football
I ain't at home with a footrest
In fact, I'm in front of the back of your head
But I'm comin' from behind, better look left
Look left like where the fuck is he?
You got time on your head, boy
You got time on your head like you wearin' buck fifty
Do it so clean but it's still so filthy, fuck with me
'Cause you already know you fuck n***as
Really can't talk with me
[Chorus]
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz, tellin' all that truth
N***a, talk yo' shit, n***a, talk yo' shit
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz, tellin' all that truth
N***a, talk yo' shit, n***a, talk yo' shit
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz, tellin' all that truth
N***a, talk yo' shit, n***a, talk yo' shit
Talkin' all that jazz might get you popped
But I ain't gon' stop, don't A-S-K
Until I'm in a white drop top with a smile on my face
And a hand in the air like JFK

[Verse 2]
Wait, all in your steam better known as a hotbox
Crack rocks in a square, better known as a block
Impaired tryna' move; that's hopscotch
Unfair one leg is a hell of a cock block
My n***a, what an anomaly
My n***a look at the world, my n***a what a monopoly
Drop tops in the hood, and they're sitting on twenty two's
N***a still on Section 8 though
Trickin' on the low for a ho, n***a
Mama at the crib tryna stretch a couple pesos
Couldn't paint a pretty picture with the tears and her makeup
Better get MAACO, makeovers help n***as make money
But I'ma always talk that James Moody
Most rappers these days is actors
And I can't keep watchin' the same movie
These n***as keep sharin' the same models and these models act like they ain't groupies
I ain't stupid, talkin' Duke Ellington, Count Basie, Monk and Dave Brubeck
I ain't stupid, talkin' too eloquent
I ain't stutter, my n***a I ain't Ruben
Ginger ale for the hoes in champagne flutes
Tell one of them come pour me a glass
She don't act up, she can get this truth
Tell her ass read that while I roll this joint
N***a tryna relax, 'cause the shit don't stop
I ain't tryna relapse, to that wack bullshit,
N***as better evac when I drop
'Cause I swear that this black man ain't gon' stop
Talking all that jazz
[Chorus]
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz, tellin' all that truth
N***a, talk yo' shit, n***a, talk yo' shit
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz, tellin' all that truth
N***a, talk yo' shit, n***a, talk yo' shit
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz, tellin' all that truth
N***a, talk yo' shit, n***a, talk yo' shit
Talkin' all that jazz might get you popped
But I ain't gon' stop, don't A-S-K
Until I'm in a white drop top with a smile on my face
And a hand in the air like JFK

[Outro]
That Coltrane, that Charlie Parker
That Charles Mingus, that Frank Sinatra
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz
That Coltrane, that Charlie Parker
That Charles Mingus, Frank Sinatra
Talkin' all that jazz
Talkin' all that jazz