Git Your Hand Out My Pocket

By Add-2

On Jim Crow the Musical

Released on February 9, 2019

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[Intro]

My brothers and sisters... I come before you today to give you a message. Yes... Yes, I've been selected here to give you a message. (Please give your eyes and your attention and your ears, please my brothers please.) A message given to me from the most high. The message is, "The end... is near."


[Chorus]

Get yo hand out my pocket

I did not come here to play games with you niggas

Get yo hand out my pocket

See I came here to give you a message

A message that was given to me

(Get yo hand out my...)

To tell all of you... that it's over


[Verse]

Yea, my penmanship makes ships sink then I'm sailing out

Yo crew's just selling out, write letters I spill it

Address you and then mail it out

Outsmart them I'm brainstorming

Break your umbrellas out, how long will my rain last

Hungry but ain't fast

You slow, ain't catch it like dropped passes, I'm passing the Flash

Glass half empty, I'm a pessimist, how I show I'm the bad side

This guy so nice, I'm finishing last, that's why

That's why I'm ahead of my time

Our hands touch digits, take a couple minutes and you'll get it

I came back for seconds, I told you I was hungry on the fifth bar

Ha, I'm on my shit y'all

Start eating and split it when niggas starving wit' ya

Study like scholars, I'm still smart as them Harvard niggas

I make figures for niggas who need father figures

Who follow niggas who follow niggas who quick to lick a shot

After taking a shot of liquor, the bottle hollow

I hear ya holla the hollow hit ya like, damn!

We lose heads, like the Sleepy Hollow

Get caught sleeping and your wake is sure to follow

My uncle like sixty, he still play the lotto

He told me life is a gamble, that shit his favorite motto

Throwing a pair of dices like a paradise

I'm low-key like Barry White

Wait, that kilo though, that Barry white

Wait, no dope, play my songs in the key of life

My vision darker, off the wall like I'm Peter Parker

No Bret Hart, a sharp shooter you can be the target

You need a coffin, I kill it sick can you hear me coughing

They always say I'm in rare form, I do it often

I beg your pardon, I sell ticks I could play in Boston

Found myself tryna find myself in these beats I'm lost in

Lost ones, thinking they could guard son

Nah son, cross 'em like God's son

Jesus, got more game than Shuttlesworth

What it's worth, my homies pouring syrup like it's Buttersworth

Fighting addiction, I pinpoint the affliction

My pen points to the page, I draw a blank I bet you still feel it

Huh, niggas don't get the picture yet

You can amputate my foot I still wouldn't miss a step

Chilling in the cut, I got the scissors set

Sizzle in the skillet, food for thought and I'm the kitchen chef

Sick as sickle cell, the flow is ice but I ain't slipping yet

Anybody thinking they could write with me's getting left

Boy, better chill wit your weak ass

I'm watching all the games they playing like a league pass

Got my fam eating good, this the repast

Never had a Sega but I always had a dream cast

In the Chi, niggas passing more than Steve Nash

Never hear a sound, we like the forest when the tree crash

Boy, these forces is tryna finish us

Forcing my hand, one eye open like Forest Whitaker

Running like Forrest, fakes can't kill us 'cause they ain't real enough

Still stealing, biting my lines like I ain't real enough

This muthafucka rhyme out his muthafuckin' mind

But no matter what you do, don't waste my muthafuckin' time

Nigga


[Chorus]

Oh yea

Get yo hand out my pocket

Stop it

Get yo hand out my pocket

Stop it

Stop it

Get yo hand out my...