Home - Jake One

…206, you know this

The place to be if you blow piff

Medical card, see the doctor on some kumo shit

Split the blunt after you fold it?

You gone' trip

They have you on some pimp shit

New clothes, kicks

Lil' mommy strokin' the mink like -- «You so crisp!»

If you notice, these fools know tricks, to scoop yo' bits

So keep your game tight, don’t lose your grip, like Jerramy Stevens

Its not the place to be if you barely eat

The Winter time is the therapy season

They say the overcast depresses the stunt’s growth

But them ain’t rain clouds my nigga, that’s blunt smoke

Damn it feels good to talk about home…

Welcome to Seattle where the sun don’t shine

C NOTE

Lets take em back to the scene yo

Show em what I mean though

Shark Bar, Art Bar, Oskar’s, Deano’s

Streets fish grease same thing, better weed though

Dark days, fast nights, VUSCA, King Co

News travels word of mouth, I know you heard about

Dude turned state, he been talking to Kerlikowsk'

'Bout JUOSLP, MOA, Valley hood

East U, deuce eight, South side, West wide

Dilapidated gentrified

40 ounce for breakfast, Macchiato when I’m high

Promised to make her mine

She let me get it rain sleet or shine

Yeah, that’s Seattle state of mind

Damn it feels good to talk about home…

Damn it feels good to talk about home…

MANEAK B

Rise and shine bitches check how Seattle do

The flow sick shit, call it Seattle flu

Outta town, actin wild, my Seattle crew

Run this Jake track just like Seattle Slew

And the green that we blow from Seattle too

That was grown in a lab at Seattle U

At Qwest Field 12th man my Seattle dude

Nate Burleson wearin that Seattle blue

Bosworth made all of Seattle boo

The Sonics let Kemp go -- «Seattle's through!»

I read Seattle Times I watch Seattle news

I hope Seattle win I watch Seattle lose

Damn it feels good to talk about home…

Damn it feels good to talk about home…

ISH

Man its about that time

To pop that cork and pour out that shine

Ooooo

Full out hard grind, gettin' better life wine

Make the dimes then whi-i-ine (ine-ine)

Yeah Ish that’s me, white M3 bangin

J Soup LP, (In the hood) like the young niggas bang LP

Union, Jackson, Yesler, Two-Three

Boy I stay ooh-we

You do you and let me do me

And I bet I out crack these half assed niggas

Ain’t wet on the track (What up balla’s)

Check these pussy niggas not ballers

You fuckin with the town’s rap scholars, bitch holla!

We just very low, key don’t think that a nigga

Don’t very blow heat

And ain’t nery none em sweet

Solo Do' is my idol man, Cherry is the street

The streets buried my peeps

Credit Dre, Dowell, Doobie and Baby T

I bought Kools in Mr. Lows for my moms

In the Doghouse hallways that made my flows bomb

From the CD we is all just alike

Panthers and gangstas raised us up right

When the chips crash stand yo ass up and fight

Some chose the top blow me I gun mics

Check it and I will gun you down

C. Dillon killin how we run through sounds (Up the middle boy)

The whole world renowned, first we built it

Then we killed it, then we tilted that crown

To the left cause I’m fresh off the right

Cause we tight to the back

Whats the haps?

Shit nothin'

Headed up to Granny’s with Ezells and The Facts

Some say I pushed it forward some say he brought it back

I put the ill up in real you a fake

When I’m chill when I build with the Jake One

Damn it feels good to talk about home…

Damn it feels good to talk about home…