They hesitate, but my pen a drop.

And resuscitate, the Harlem Renaissance.

I approach rappers, young J.P Morgan.

Then go to the source like make me Porche’s.

Make me an offer, don’t make me nauseous.

Long time, ridin’ my **** get off it.

Pause it, then hide from ya husband in the closet.

Then go down stairs like I think you better talk to him.

Bosses, Bosses, Bosses and the other boss.

If your  Vice Prez that means you’re an under boss.

I’m a lucky horse shoe, ******* like another toss.

Last time I checked, they had a few numbers off.

If the air game wont work we goin run the ball.

Backfield in motion, handoff, TD from somersault.

Music is my mothers, films my father sonin’ yall

Pardon me media, I’m just the son-in-law. 

Justis James™ Did It
©Copyright 2012