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Mick Jenkins - Jazz lyrics

Drink more water... or you might die

Seven Nine, King Drive, you can picture me rollin'
Bendin' corners we was headed to the Rasta
n***a been blessed but a n***a been sick
And a n***a been stressed so, f** it I'm a doctor
Self medicated, ginger ale in the champagne flutes
And I ain't celebratin', shookin' up crack
Where presentation's everything, tell 'em wait 'til I'm plated
Patience, I'm faded, like outdated denim
Hearin' it like this about as rare as a cadence
The boy got some Miles Davis in him
Talkin' all that jazz

Tellin' all that truth, n***a talk your sh**
Better watch your mouth, better watch your back
Better choose the right way on some fork in the road sh**

And of course the path less traveled
f** 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 f** is he?
You got time on your head boy
You got time on your head like you wearing buck fifty
Do it so clean but it's still so filthy, f** with me
Cause you already know you f** n***as really can't really talk with me

Talking all that jazz, talking all that jazz
Telling all that truth, n***a talk your sh**
n***a talk your sh**
[x3]

Talking all that jazz might get you popped
But I ain't gonna 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

Wait, all in your steam better known as a hotbox
Crack rocks in a square, better known as block
Impaired tryna move that's hopscotch
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/mick-jenkins/the-water/jazz.html]
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 sitting on 22's
n***a still on section 8 though
Tricking on the low for a ho n***a
Momma 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'm a always talk that James Moody
Most rappers these days is actors
And I can't keep watching the same movie
These n***as keep sharing the same models
And these models act like they ain't groupies
I ain't stupid, talking Duke Ellington, Count Ba**ie, Monk and Dave Brubeck
I ain't stupid, talking 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 gla**
She don't act up, she can get this truth
Tell her a** read that while I roll this joint
n***a tryna relax, cause the sh** don't stop
I ain't tryna relapse to that whack bullsh**
n***as better evac when I drop
Cause I swear that this black man ain't talking all that jazz

Talking all that jazz, talking all that jazz
Telling all that truth, n***a talk your sh**
n***a talk your sh**
[x3]

Talking all that jazz might get you popped
But I ain't gonna 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

That Coltrane, that Charlie Parker, that Charles Mingus
That Frank Sinatra
Talking all that jazz, talking all that jazz
That Coltrane, that Charlie Parker, that Charles Mingus
That Frank Sinatra
Talking all that jazz, talking all that jazz
Talking all that jazz, talking all that jazz
Talking all that jazz, talking all that jazz

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