THE GHOST OF RANKING DREAD!
THE GHOST OF RANKING DREAD!

JPEGMAFIA - THE GHOST OF RANKING DREAD! Lyrics

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THE GHOST OF RANKING DREAD! Music Video

THE GHOST OF RANKING DREAD! Lyrics

And once you start seeing me training and grinding
You gon' fuckin' go bitch (yeah)

Everything 'bout JPEG's I like
I wan' big up all di massive dem from Nigeria, Gambia
You done know seh unnuh respect all di African dem inna e place
All German people dem, yeah man, big and serious, yuh zimmi?

In't nothing wrong with the two of us, know that
Put it down just like you miss me, know that
Ain't nothing wrong with the two of us
Know that
Yes, you know that
(Yeah, man big up di dancing)
(Wan' better than that, y'ah hear me, Monica?)
(Sekkle di bike, enuh, fix di bike, big and serious) uh oh

I got- baby momma in the back seat (oh, no) (yuh zimmi?)
The other- baby momma won't stop harrassin' me (well damn)
I can't keep up with these girls, I just want quiet and peace (yeah)
There's more than dick in this world
Bitch, take me outta the streets
Gotta keep some of you, fuck every one of you
I got the gun in the tee (for real)
She said, "I'm done with you, I had my fun with you
Take me back to the streets" (yeah)
Watch your tone when you talk to this geek
Choppa don't jam, it's like one of y'all beats (nah)
Stay in the lab, get the fuck out the streets
This is not what you want, this is not where you at, this not it
I finesse and I jugg in that bitch (yeah, man big up di dan-)
Give it back, I ain't through with that shit (what else?)
Can't do shit on your own, know you need the assist (uh)
Attack of the Clones when these niggas be spittin'
Off beat shit ain't gon' make you a livin'
Teach you somethin' since you think that I'm kiddin' (ay)
Whoa, third-eye rappin'-ass niggas
Noi flows, report for an image
Whoa, called up the minister, something just ain't addin' up
But lions and leopards ain't meant to be jiggy (nah)
Toran Hill, they say meant to be pretty (nah)
Niggas named after baking soda
But ain't never touched no fuckin' coke and you see (facts)
She's so thick, hit that bitch with a fast ball
Know you wanna fuck for an image (come here, baby)
Heard your tape but I didn't get a mention
Last year, bitch, I be the sentence
I swear these hoes just want the attention
Stop talking, I see you blur your face for the 'Gram
I blur your face, forensics
With the star bitch, I'm Jimi Hendrix
With this fuck shit I'm Eddie, wait, Kendricks, man

Now give thanks and praise to His Majesty
Imperial Haile Selassie I The First, Jah

Writer(s): Barrington DeVaughn Hendricks
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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