In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
Ayo, Dogg, what's happenin' with motherfuckin' hip-hop, man?
Give us some lyrics, cuh
Some of that real hip-hop, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
Boy, you lost it, nigga
It was him (who?) then me (who?) and no one after
So I blazed my trail and wrote my own chapters
Stomped down pterodactical raptors
Game's sustained, my new jersey's in the rafters
Statisticians, they keep up with it
No sleep 'til they get it
And once they got it, they count it
So I learned how to dismount it
My landing was perfect
A man with a purpose
I learned to resurface
A boss but no workers
While you're sleepin', I'm lurkin'
I'm shifty at fifty, I keep the work and I'm workin'
Big Snoop D-O-double-G
Yellow like bumblebee
Mellow like R&B
Your bitches keep followin' me
I'm right where I oughta be
Plottin' my pottery
I'm watchin' my calories
Rechargin' my batteries
A ticket up front? That's my usual salary
They imitatin' my style, shit, I call it flattery
I'm here forever, nigga, and that's just what that'll be
Look it up, hook it up
Charge it to the game until you book it up
Take a picture, nigga, look at us
Hit-Boy and Snoop Dogg in the kitchen, nigga, cookin' up
Ayy, Dogg, get on the phone with Dre
Tell Dre call Interscope
Tell them niggas run me my shit or else, nigga
The Game's to be sold, Blood, not to be told, Blood
The chronic get broke down, Backwoods get rolled up
Yup, fifty Bloods when I showed up
What's beef? Chopper turnin' niggas into cold cuts
Snoop told me, "Show love," but niggas ain't deserve it
I'ma talk my shit like I'm the next rapper murdered
Red sedan swervin' with the Peter Pan workin'
Hand-to-hand serve 'em right outside of Tam Burgers
Bullets ain't got no names, my fully quick to aim
I bully niggas for change, I pulled in to rip the strings
Puppet master, F&Ns got 'em duckin' faster
Aftermath, you niggas know it ain't nothin' after
I can't chill 'til I see a hundred mil'
Hop off a PJ in Aruba with a blunt and chill
My old apartment still in action, water runnin' still
And if I can't kill you, these LA summers will
It was him then me and no one after
So I blazed my trail and wrote my own chapters
Stomped down pterodactical raptors
Game's sustained, my new jersey's in the rafters (nigga)
Yeah, 2022
Death Row Records
'Nough said
Give us some lyrics, cuh
Some of that real hip-hop, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout?
Boy, you lost it, nigga
It was him (who?) then me (who?) and no one after
So I blazed my trail and wrote my own chapters
Stomped down pterodactical raptors
Game's sustained, my new jersey's in the rafters
Statisticians, they keep up with it
No sleep 'til they get it
And once they got it, they count it
So I learned how to dismount it
My landing was perfect
A man with a purpose
I learned to resurface
A boss but no workers
While you're sleepin', I'm lurkin'
I'm shifty at fifty, I keep the work and I'm workin'
Big Snoop D-O-double-G
Yellow like bumblebee
Mellow like R&B
Your bitches keep followin' me
I'm right where I oughta be
Plottin' my pottery
I'm watchin' my calories
Rechargin' my batteries
A ticket up front? That's my usual salary
They imitatin' my style, shit, I call it flattery
I'm here forever, nigga, and that's just what that'll be
Look it up, hook it up
Charge it to the game until you book it up
Take a picture, nigga, look at us
Hit-Boy and Snoop Dogg in the kitchen, nigga, cookin' up
Ayy, Dogg, get on the phone with Dre
Tell Dre call Interscope
Tell them niggas run me my shit or else, nigga
The Game's to be sold, Blood, not to be told, Blood
The chronic get broke down, Backwoods get rolled up
Yup, fifty Bloods when I showed up
What's beef? Chopper turnin' niggas into cold cuts
Snoop told me, "Show love," but niggas ain't deserve it
I'ma talk my shit like I'm the next rapper murdered
Red sedan swervin' with the Peter Pan workin'
Hand-to-hand serve 'em right outside of Tam Burgers
Bullets ain't got no names, my fully quick to aim
I bully niggas for change, I pulled in to rip the strings
Puppet master, F&Ns got 'em duckin' faster
Aftermath, you niggas know it ain't nothin' after
I can't chill 'til I see a hundred mil'
Hop off a PJ in Aruba with a blunt and chill
My old apartment still in action, water runnin' still
And if I can't kill you, these LA summers will
It was him then me and no one after
So I blazed my trail and wrote my own chapters
Stomped down pterodactical raptors
Game's sustained, my new jersey's in the rafters (nigga)
Yeah, 2022
Death Row Records
'Nough said
Lyrics submitted by furyroad97
Jerseys In The Rafters Lyrics as written by Chauncey A. Hollis Calvin Broadus
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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