JacknJill

Hook (Baggins and Roulette):

Rollin down the hill, they call us Jack n Jill

Acting rich, but they’ve never seen a fifty dollar bill

Climbing up again, call me Jill (Call me Jack)

Spitting the lyrical flow, we came to attack

Rollin down the hill, they call us Jack n Jill

Acting rich, but they’ve never seen a fifty dollar bill

Climbing up again, call me Jill (Call me Jack)

Spitting the lyrical flow, we came to attack

Verse 1 (Roulette):

Bitch I ain't never seen a fiddy pound note

But I've said and I quote

I don't need to boast

I've already got everything I rate

I've already lost your respect so what else can you take

I don't need that supreme or bape

When there's more to worry about like crime and rape

The current rap game is a shit show

When people go to gigs, people just watch it through their phones

Sometimes I like to spit slow

Sometimes I like to spit fast

You know when I drop on a beat

I'm a lyrical athlete

You know I don't like to be discrete

I can’t be found on the high street

My bars are heavy like concrete

I'll mash your brains into mince meat

All this shit takes time

I don't wanna hear you whine

I don't wanna see you tryna get away from real life

Don't take it for granted you only get one

And trust me you can't get it back when it's gone

Hook (Baggins and Roulette):

Rollin down the hill, they call us Jack n Jill

Acting rich, but they’ve never seen a fifty dollar bill

Climbing up again, call me Jill (Call me Jack)

Spitting the lyrical flow, we came to attack

Rollin down the hill, they call us Jack n Jill

Acting rich, but they’ve never seen a fifty dollar bill

Climbing up again, call me Jill (Call me Jack)

Spitting the lyrical flow, we came to attack (Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay)

Verse 2 (Baggins):

Roulette and Baggins rolling down the hill like Jack and Jill

And imma bet your favourite rappers, they ain’t half as ill

Can’t match the skill, Baggins will attack at will

With Roulette packin a gat, we about to rack the kills (Yuh, Ay)

Imma roll up to your city

And imma pull up on your bitch and imma bust on her titties

All these fake ass rapper dudes say they be stacking the fiddies

They ain’t got a pot to piss in, ain’t got jack in their kitties (yuh, Ay)

They say this crackers gotta go coz imma lyrical rapper, but got a mumble rapper flow

Yuh, me and Roulette about to blow

Like a bitch with a suicide vest and amputated toe

Operating on the game alive, and I’m about to roll the dice like I’m playing the game of life (Ay, Ay)

I made the same mistakes twice, I’m spitting razor blades, this shits a piece of cake, who wants a slice?

Outro (Baggins):

You know I’m on top of my game

These rappers ain’t popping the same, Imma fire them lyrical shots at your brain

They tryna spit hella quick thinking they’re hella sick they ain’t got nothing to say

I’m feeling quite devilish lately been revelling feel like a renegade, but sick like a bellyache