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lirik lagu i ain’t no place – jazz

[verse 1: jazz]
i conjure rhymes out of air so bear witness to the wizardry
call me raps pic-sso paintin’ pictures oh so vividly
and yeah i bring the wood, all the girls call me the harbinger
but no i won’t trade places i’m more aimless than a famous barterer
jimmy carter
adding extra letters to the end of names so i can rig the game
shoot for more fame than kurt cobain’s aim to the brain; bang bang!
they tell me what i wanna be i tell them what i wanna change
my emotions invoke a conflicted mental; grab your stencils and a pencil
this temple that the mental gentle legions of angels and demons i wrestle
call a vessel, i’m ancestral, not the devil just disheveled
my precision is sinister, but i ain’t finished the mission
wait, dylan
how you gon’ finish, you can’t finish decisions
write a pet-tion for my conscious to sign; infect its mind and hope it finds peace in self-demolition
then break my keys off in the f-ckin’ ignition
chasin’ visions of freedom and diminished submission
you should eat your advice man; cause i’m just hearing noise
i’m jesus christ and i create and destroy with my voice
i’m the sun, and the moon too
you should see the way i move through the ju-ju
just like a choo-choo
who you, i’m a f-ckin’ zoot troop on my own
always on my own, always pen on my own dome
cause my thoughts are scribbles, let me paint this picture for you baby
i’m a little crazy, minds a little hazy
promise i been gettin’ it lately, not been gettin’ lit lately
still got b-lls like i’m brady, i fall, then i laugh
i draw from my staff, yeah it’s long like giraffe
i’m an -sshat but i’m still gettin’ mad cash, not really
i’m f-ckin’ broke, eatin’ money till i choke ho

[hook: jazz]
(dude who the f-ck is this guy, he sucks)

[verse 2: jazz]
found my eyes on the ground sobbing
picked em up, dust em off, implant them in my hands
now i stand as the guardian of pans labyrinth
how could this f-ckin’ happen
life ain’t no f-ckin’ pageant
my past actions
got me hackin’ up fractions of my lungs
and i love it
ya’ll can f-ckin’ shove it
i’m a f-ckin’ pundit
one hundred
run it to your stomach
like ali
i’mma see, all i be is all i do
all of me of is all i prove
i’m the sun, and the moon too
you should see the way i move through the ju-ju
just like a choo-choo
who you, i’m a f-ckin’ zoot troop on my own
always on my own, always pen on my own dome
cause my thoughts are scribbles, let me paint this picture for you baby
i’m a little crazy, minds a little hazy
promise i been gettin’ it lately, not been gettin’ lit lately
still got b-lls like i’m brady, i fall, then i laugh
i draw from my staff, yeah it’s long like giraffe
i’m an -sshat but i’m still gettin’ mad cash, not really
i’m f-ckin’ broke, eatin’ money till i choke ho

[hook]

- jazz

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