[Verse 1: Jet Perry]

Who the fuck said Jet can't spit?

Shout out to all the haters; they can chew on bricks

Shout out to all my skaters doing them kick flips

Turn my shit off if I'm explicit

Hate what rap is: so I bought a set of retro's

Young boy got more tracks than a metro

Hello! They say I should quit: Oh hell no

My lyrics' too fire just to boil

I won't quit rap 'till I'm underneath the soil

An adolescent peasant, grampa' is reverent: so I'm guessin'

Oh lord! My presence is a blessin'

Drive for the salad with the dressing, and the girlies undressin'

I'm your rapper's favorite rapper; matter fact motherf**k your favorite rapper

Sinister lyricist, y'all should be feelin' it, and if you ain't feelin' it; feel it in your spirit

And hear this shit

I'm so groovy, I wish i had groupies

I took your girl for lunch, dinner, and a movie

And after all that; I even let her do me

Inside your car, oops, I mean your hooptie

And I don't really like loops unless they're fruity

And I dont really like bitches that are always moody

And I must admit, I've never received a nudie

But I'd rather see them in person than on a screen

I think I'm crazy, I've really really lost it

Don't stop having sex unless she's exhausted

The CT cat, that's just stating facts, trying to make a living off this Hip-Hop/Rap

It's that boom-bap mix with new rap, I'm a stupid cat; but my flow is phat

My black skin isn't why I'm rapping; I happen to be rapping because rapping is my passion

So you ask "Young Jet, you still rap?"

Like I've said before "You're ears must be spoiled, I'm not quitting rap until I'm underneath the soil"

[Bridge: Jet Perry]

Boom, boom, boom, boom-pop

Hear the base bumping from ya motherfucking rooftops

When my crew stops, you gon' see us coming from ya motherfucking rooftops