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Black Jack (Birthday Cypher) Lyrics by Probably Edible

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I'm a son of a gun like my mum sexed a rifle.
Making moves, like movie: Latronum; search the title
I just hit soft to taunt them, then Jigsaw their options:
It's their life or mine; I take both. I'm a monster.

My last two nights I've been Jack's tooth bite.
Insomniac is back, not black but too white
My last two lives I've been Jack's new sight
My new songs are wack? Fuck that, I'm PuKe!

I'm like a Black Jack from Fight Club. Fuck what your life does
I'm Jack's bad back with an ax and a lighter
I'm lighter than Sam Cooke. I'm blacker than magic
The dope man whose dope show's so dope that it's tragic
A clown with the bread stick whose dead wit is deadpan
Don't fuck with the breathless, the heartless or get vamped.
Determined to deter. All love letters get stamped
I hung with the hangmen whose last words were neck snaps
See, they forget that I'm this sick 'til vomit is spitting
From clenched teeth, don't bench me, my artery's dripping
My drenched sleeve is red, bleed on laptop encryption
The .zip file corrupted; my last words were missing
I wrote them in notepads I scattered from pockets
I run late for buses, but casually walk in
I spoke true in both raps, I spattered no nonsense
I spit truth in shit booths like cubicle, toilets

I'm sick like a Dog, I fill that Reservoir steadily
Get no replies, no results from my résumés
Seeing me handing CVs just to get a break
I come back to my pad, load my drums and get a break
I sever brains from spinal chords. The final word's
All I'm ever writing for, to reach the rhyme that I'll adorn
With scorn and wit and lordly spit
Throw my laptop at damn walls like "get off my dick!"
And I'm from that Reekie motherfucker
I'm cheeky for no reason, believe me motherfucker
Sick of talking to people who deceive me, like their words were
Worth a single second of my presence. I'm a cunt
I used to be so livid, then I was prolific;
Now I never write, because I'm always busy living
She said "blink you'll miss it!" I held my eyes shut
Cos I'm always tired now-a-days and I don't trust a.. thing
I'll never lose my sight but my vision does blurrrr
Went from so so poor, to so couture
My world got flipped, but I landed on a Pegasus;
The training wheels fell off and I'm just fucking peddling
I'm meditating, man it's like I want it then I'll have it
I never lost my mind cos it's like I never had it
So I don't mind at all if I never get ahead of this
My sight came flooding back, it's hard to keep pretending
Regret is funny to me cos I'm greeting all my dreams
And I'm seeing all the people that I really should've been
Living lives that aren't that great. I guess the grass ain't always green
If your eyes are always closed, but I never ever sleep
Respect was all I wanted, now I have it all and then some
So you can talk your shit, as long as when you tell them
You tell them that I'm making it; I'm crafting like I'm Notch
Playing Tyler and just smiling cos he's a Bastard and I'm not
Technically I am, but that's not the point I'm making
All those breaths I kept on taking, when they said that I just waste it
My talent became balanced with the passion in my veins which
Led to where I am; still just laughing at the "famous"
I vented and just emptied all the feelings I kept bottled
Felt the bubble in my stomach that had kept my stomach hollow
Erupting. As my tongue sent vibrations through the air
My troubles turned to rubble, buried me, but I don't care
I relented through the wreckage to find the house regret lived
In. In a sense, innocent, but when the scent leaves an imprint
On your printed top, your thinking stops every time your fingers clawed
On dusty keys to print your thoughts but the aroma lingers on

And now I'm living in a position where I'm sitting here and listening
To mixes I've been getting from producers who envision hits
It's sickening to think about, I try to keep it distant then
The closer that I come, the more I feel like fucking giving in
Indifference is my bluff, when you call it's like it's never in
My mug is mean as fuck when I think about the dividends
But I call my posse up and they act like we were never friends
I wrote a song to tell them, but I draft it, man, it's never sent
All these assholes acting like my life was always heaven sent
Like I ain't have to struggle every minute just to get respect
Like I ain't ever killed a cyph, 'til you can smell the scent of death
To be reminded that I'm white, like "Pass the mic. Yo, Eminem.."
Forgetting them, I'm moving on, like watch me spit though
Told my friends when I first hit "Yeah, I got the limos."
And since I never lie, I must apply this fucking formula
I can't tell you how this'll end, but, baby, pick a spoiler.

About “Black Jack (Birthday Cypher)” by Probably Edible

Read the complete lyrics to "Black Jack (Birthday Cypher)" by Probably Edible. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Rap.

"Black Jack (Birthday Cypher)" is performed by Probably Edible. This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL. Music lyrics help listeners connect with emotion, narrative, and rhythm in a track. Whether you are learning English, researching a favorite chorus, or preparing for karaoke, having accurate line breaks and section labels (verse, chorus, bridge) makes the experience easier. We link to the official artist profile on Lyrks where available, including biography snippets, top songs, and chart placements when we have that data. If you enjoy "Black Jack (Birthday Cypher)", explore more songs by Probably Edible using the links below. Chart and trending pages on Lyrks highlight what listeners are searching for this week. For copyright or correction requests, see our DMCA and contact pages.

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Frequently asked questions

"Black Jack (Birthday Cypher)" is credited to Probably Edible. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.

Album information for "Black Jack (Birthday Cypher)" is not available in our database yet. You can still read the full lyrics on this page.

Visit the Probably Edible artist page at /artist/probably-edible for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.


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