Quit jockin' my fresh. Chorus: Easily I approach The microphone because I ain't no joke Tell ya momma to get off of my nuts She need to quit "Jockin' my fresh" - Jay-Z Easily I could smoke Your hypertone, n***a you ain't no loc Tell your girlfriend to get off of my dick And she need to quit "Jockin' my fresh" - Jay-Z Verse One: I'm on fire survival, admire you liar Who hire, new tires, flew by you New buyer, Brunier, the new sire Each line, I think it's lightening What you think is writin' Is my ink ignitin' I stole that from L But I don't think it's bitin' Beef is hidin' on side of the stage Speakin' of fightin' I write like I pull my pen out the side of a grenade Imperial, serial k**ers in front of a mural of Dilla, Proof, Blade A burial crusade Venereal, flu, A.I.D.S. I'm sick I'm too paid I'm rich I will flower a chicken like a bouchet I'm sentimental End up with your dental Loose cave b**h we ain't Friends I ain't Phoebe Buffay I'm a motherf**in' +Superstar+ like Lupe Get a lot of vagina Stylin' like I'm a designer Whoever hotter than me I probably find them inside of me Connected, I probably supply them it's eeeeeasy Chorus Verse Two: The product is like Prada A lotta shottas is stretchy Until you tired of findin' time to ride a b**h out of liars Y'all retired your guns just cause you signed a deal I'm the Youth Fountain on Truth Mountain on Honest Hill Who's countin'? I'm tryin' to build beyond a mill Don't call me seven nine's cause I'm tryin' to find a bill(ion) True is, who is down to k** Old school like a Buick Bonneville Suicide, do a lot of pills You ain't got to k** Beef is easy to me b**h Guns, grams, get 'em, got 'em all, strict G sh** Honestly, round 'em up, found 'em slumped Down to buck, llama tuck Grind till you tired of us I'm on your head like a Yamaka Chorus Outro: I'm gonna tell y'all n***as right now. Number one. Quit jockin' my motherf**in' fresh. Number two. If you ain't feelin' me...you a f**in' corn dog.