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convocation and afterparty - jumpa calm lyrics

[verse 1]
hoppin on this freestyle beat
we some pr+cks, just some kids playing tricks (uh)
but my time’s costing, not cheap
making bread and throwing up heaps
[?]

[verse 2]
now it’s time for me to go
i ain’t goin slow, i’m staying on tempo
they call this a freestyle but it ain’t free
told braden i’m hung, i think he’s f+ckin blow me
grab the breeze and the chinese
i wanna get high, [?]
cooking in the studio with my homie ali
if he’s jesse pinkman, i’m skinny pete

[verse 3]
[?] ready, the programs are steady
[????]

[verse 4: comic book filter]
lookin around, lookin for the best sh+t in the area
the b+tch pull up, she said let’s f+ck, but got my vibe [?]
[?]
she made me spin, beyblade
i got electro+lit, gatorade
[verse 5]
uh, uh uh uh uh uh
according to him i been working out
[?], meaty c+ck
but they still call me slim jim
he’s slim jim, then i’m anorexic tim
a skinny little guy with a basic ass trim
i ain’t laying down sh+t, but my p+n+s is legit
i can go all night, my sh+t don’t quit
wake up in the morning, eat some lucky charms
then walk out the door with my firearm
i’m causing chaos like it’s something minor
the destroyer of worlds, call me oppenheimer
watch me drop the bomb, playin with the ethics
of what deciphers a sub from a dom
spinnin up the block, [?]
got the rock in my palm, 100% field goal (uh)
jumpa calm

[verse 6: @png]
wait a minute, you thought the song was finished? (h+ll nah)
i been linkin with the bag and now i’m catching feelings
lyrically pack that heat, man i’ll define an era
roundhouse kick yo ass like i study capoeira b+tch (uh uh, uh uh)
i’m gettin no play (no play)
i feel the absence of intimacy like every day (uh uh)
i need a hundred pounds of açaí up on my plate
afterparty featured me and this is what i gotta say
my homie trapped inside the ghetto smoking copious amounts of methamphetamine to lower his cholesterol (d+mn, d+mn)
i’d rather focus on a baddie in stilettos while i chief the evil jeeb, run out of weed, inhaling methanol
i see it in our oceans, in our lakes, and in our rivers
the top elite don’t wanna swallow sh+t they think is bitter
put they hands under the table, feeding mother earth for dinner
a mass amalgamation of pollution and litter (f+ck ’em all)
wake up in the morning, pull the hammer back before reloading
addicted to intimidation like i’m overdosing
housing market’s magnum opus poverty and pandemonium
tenants jumpin owners, ducking the eviction notice
dissociative when i see my face
i’m hearing shapes and tasting colors, d+mn i think the pack was laced
feel the air fill in my lungs at an alarming rate
so imma need a cool cigarette to numb the pain
(man man man, why is this sh+t call jumpa calm?
jumpa calm?!
the f+ck are you talking about?
what?)

- convocation and afterparty lyrics

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