"Jack" needs help, he's trapped and lost,
I put "Jack" in a box and I'm jackin the locks,
This new "Jack's" tracks aint bout "Jack" shit,
He's grown cold from the cards he holds so he folds his "Jack" six,
What a wack bitch, I'm quick to hit this tacky geek,
Throw you in the Iraqi streets after the Apache sweep,
Actually my flow that lingers will make, your femur real straight,
Try and write the shit I spit your fingers will break,
They call me insane with a sick brain so I stay strapped,
Native American so I've never had a problem with "Jack".