Put You On

Okay (DipSet)

Writer... JR Writer that is

But you niggaz already know that man

History in the making

There's a lot of things you niggaz don't know about me, man

Let me put you on though, man

Well, I was making sales

At the age of twelve

Pack margarine, black laundry, case of shells

Never Dave Chappelle

Half baking, half faking, I was cash-chasing

Let me put you on

Before a hooker's song I wrote

Or would perform

I was pushing strong, you niggaz cooked it wrong

Ain't have 'em hooked for long

I hit the hood wit' form

Before Killa ever said "Let me put you on"

Flipping, listen baby I was never dumb

Sitting in the lobby like I'm waiting for some mail to come

Come see me, believe me I got it

Girl I'm with some chicken-head but my B is exotic

Cause I'm seen in the projects with the top low

Glocked though, that'll leave more holes in your body than a Quatro

That's a Maserati pappo, stop slow

You don't really know me that well, let me put you on

I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest (so what?)

This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to this vet

Listen closer, I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best

JR Writer, the dude in the flesh, let me put you on

How I used to, go to school in class stuntin'

Back bubblin' like come and get a pack buzzin'

Ask cousin, brick up in the class oven

Had every other student up in cooking class buggin'

Box cutter, keep thinkin' I ain't stash nothing

While you was cuttin' class nigga, I was class cuttin'

In the schoolyard like let me catch a cat frontin'

I'm a slap something, let me put you on

I hit so much teachers with the lean

The principle, had to call a meeting with the dean

But that's just cause they wanted a piece of what I seen

Similar to gymnastics how I keep it on the beam

Had everybody in they classes getting high

Since elementary it's been a fact that I am fly

I tell the customers put the cash up in the sky

And treat 'em like a bad comedian

Slap 'em with a pie

Ha, all day in the lobby with piff

Still, sitting around like I gotta be rich

So me and? gotta pull some robberyshit

And drag frontin' niggaz outta they whips

Let me put you on

I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest

This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to me yet

You need practice, plus you average, get in tuned with this threat

Fred Money, excuse me I'm next, let me put you on

I'm up next, yes the name is Fred Money (I'm up)

I'm waiting my spot now watch how I shot dummies

Blame Writer cause the swagger brushed off something

The closet a jungle, gators and some wet monkeys

Look ya haters love me, bitches get no paper from me

Pull up my sleeve at midnight and it turning sunny

Before Writer was spitting, it was robbin' or sellin'

With him from a ski maskers to a Diplomat skully

I ain't frontin', I'm tellin' straight facts

Decided to quit school cause I had to wear slacks

Nothing to do with clippers when I push them wigs back

Was handed the same shit: either rap or push packs

Thought about it, I ain't hustlin' for scraps

Driving to the top, that's only bringin' me flats

Got a pen, wrote a rhyme, J says its crack

A few mixtapes later, he like "Fred, let me put you on"

I'm known in a couple places but I'm new to the rest (so what?)

This is for those couple places that ain't schooled to the vet

Listen closer, I'm the greatest get in tuned with the best

JR Writer, the dude in the flesh, let me put you on