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lyrics

Ya'll niggas can flick my Bic
Spitting that ill shit on the radio like I ain't listening
But I got ears, my dears I got a tongue so sharp
Cut through wind then
Deliver strings serene and serenade like a harp
Bars black you out so much, you be scared of the dark
How I talk - Is much more persuasive than my walk
So I hark
Stop smoking man I never been a quitter!
I make shit liver, chopped up for diner, my center
Of gravity is lifted
Once upon a time
I lost my mind
So It's sublime in my raps...

It's your own fault for dabbling in the dark arts of rap now I awaken
Roll rappers in the mud, then I slaughter them and cook them like bacon
Now they know the real meaning of hating
Ya'll nigga's rap?
Well man I'm waiting
I'm so fed up with ya'll, I got to make my own shit to sate my craving
And I don't need nobodies participation
I can do it on my own god dammit!
So who wants to try a run with this Jhak rabbit?
By the time I'm done, ya blind like sun and your mind's full of static
Yeah that shit's tragic
Merc'd you with some poetry like Hamlet
You ever hear a nigga spit like this?
Flow come with list of different flavors
Melting in my mouth, how you want it now or later
After while crocodile
Raps sonic boom like Guile and legendary like the fucking Nile
So tell a nigga, how you like me now?

As I lay me down to sleep, I
Pray for this beacon my soul to keep, and
If I die should before I wake, well
This Beacon will deliver my soul away

Ok

Back to my element
I'm Hip-hoptelligent
And never been lost, or crossed
By the Lord when I was a boy
I couldn't sin so, I had to play with toys
And I only win
Cuz this grin, on my face
Is for ya'll who be hustling
Ya'll who be busting in
Ya'll who be stressing him
And I dare not tell, but I dare try to sell
The truth of the, truth of the, truth of these streets
And creep through the ether to become a creature
Cuz my next feature is so hard
I can't explain what this pain
Does to a mortal, I sift through a portal, and erupt your quarters
Damn, I'm a captain
Call me Mr. Jhak - O- Lantern to be exact
And I'm the Pumpkin King: the underground's last savior
And all of ya'll get what you paid for!

As I lay me down to sleep, I
Pray for this beacon my soul to keep, and
If I should die before I wake, well
This Beacon will deliver my soul away
As I lay me down to sleep, I
Pray for this beacon my soul to keep, and
If I die should before I wake well
This Beacon better save my ass today

Now there's a lot of emcees, but they get bust like chestnuts
Mouth hung open, what the fuck, a lot of dumb luck
Cuz all these butt niggas start to come up like pastries
Hot out the oven
Till I crack the sound barrier and flatten em like an English muffin
Your hard stares do not scare me
You weak like a lactose nigga drinking dairy
Me? I'm the Hulk like Terry
Hogan, strolled them, can't console them, so I prose dim
Say I'm grim? Na man I'm Mr. Jhak
The reaper that's my cousin
So stunting and fronting will surely get your ass smashed up like stuffing
In these cold streets, especially when the money's deplete
So everybody and they mom, try to live off deceit
But when the cold calm creeps to, seep through the cracks
Insanity and malicious comes to make an attack
But everybody turns their back, like it don't involve me
But see, that's the problem, we all can't allow the brim
To be filled till it sloshes
So I suggest you just pack up and take your losses

credits

from Who Killed the Page Wizurd? LP, released November 24, 2015

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MR. JHAK Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

MR. JHAK is a Philly-bred emcee with a vivid, comic book inspired imagination. He is affiliated with MR. OWL's Parliament of Strix Records.

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