[Hook: Jack Jetson]
You ain't on that raw shit like Jetson
Pure spliff, kicking down the doors of perception
Keep it moving in a forwards direction
Super human with a formless complexion
A tourist caught in the smallest dimension
The purest, running from a forced intervention
Inventor, think up unthought of inventions
Disguises hiding unlawful intentions
[Verse 1: Jack Jetson]
Yo, yo, yo, yo
I roll with a fine knit fibre tip
Rhyme hieroglyphs, write lines in a Mayan script
Hydro hybrid, science kit type of shit
Light ital spliffs in a microchip pirate ship
Spiraless, sugar rush, diabetic dialect
Dropping bombs from a psychedelic fighter jet
Acid trip, alphabetic stanza, acrobatic flip
Automatic stick shift, dip in a rapid whip
Ganja lit, see me through the aromatic mist
But I'm just under the surface like Annunaki myths
Twist straight cannabis no baccy spliff
Flipping packages, stacking chips on some Maccies tip
Blowing indica, I'm flowing cinema scenes
The show exhibiter, please there's no perimeter
No particular flow, no dough, no signature
High, but I be keeping on the low like I was littler
Visitor, dash a Q of piff in the rizzla
Straight sinister, hold up the place like J Dillinger
While the sheep stay similar like caged prisoners
I blaze pictures, blow regurgitated images
Limitless, silky texture, pungent flavour
Wrap the bud in paper
Turning skunk to vapour
Come to slay you like an undercover dungeon raider
The weed - I heat it 'till it steaming like my drunken neighbour
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Jack Jetson]
Yo, yo
With closed eyes, expose my mind to another plain
Fuck the fame, I roll the dice and I run the game
Bright lights above the bubble berry double strain
Honey glazed cooking in the oven on a sunny day
Let my brain run away, stanzas after stanzas
Biro pen, paintbrush, my A4 pad - the canvas
Tried to keep it conscious, I don't have the answers
Organic, hydroponic plant enhancers
Leaves blowing in the wind like some ballet dancers
Fuck the faggot rappers claiming they some aggy gangsters
Meditating with the vegetation chanting mantras
I wake and bake, I'm chasing Jaegar with some cans of Fantas
Doing yoga, blowing sweet aroma
And drinking free Coronas, living life on people's sofas
My whole circle's full of sleepy stoners
Just representing for the creepy loners