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Joe Budden

Genres: Hip-Hop

Three Lyrics - Joe Budden

When you stay ready you ain't gotta get ready, Parks 

Understand that 

 

Microphone check, it's something new y'all rage 

These views only prelude from the dude on stage 

I'm old school, so my mind is in a New York state 

Still feel like I'm the best rapper in the New York State 

Though I'm a Jersey City product, we like two doors away 

Maybe I'm just the best rapper whipping New York plates 

Indeed it be the God 

If Fetty is the face of New Jerz, then you see how badly we needed I 

Young doing it my way, that's Frank Sinatra 

I might hang with you bloggers, but I bang with the mobsters 

See me right in Hell's Kitchen having drinks over pasta 

Need the fake to love the real so let me thank you impostors 

Bicoastal early, y'all hit the Daytons and Impalas 

Started buzzing around the time Sporty Thievz kept saying "nada" 

Emcees ain't even bother, and I don't know what's truly worse 

Them wanting my spot or not knowing they gotta move me first 

 

You are now entering the mind of the sick 

About as remarkable as it gets 

Here's what they think about you 

Here's what they think about you 

You are now entering the mind of the sick 

About as remarkable as it gets 

Here's what they think about you 

Here's what they think about you 

 

Now, Parks, let me get back to my shit right quick 

Now turn me up in my headphones 

let me get back on my rage shit right quick though 

But turn the lights down in the booth 

let's do this real quick 

Look, It go 

 

Few years, weights up, still sleep, wake up 

Bitches know the stakes up since I beat my case up 

Hip hop shit list, look at these bastard men dress 

I'm just taking back what's owed, and adding interest 

Maybe just my love died, loud lit above high 

Slugs fly, eyes scrubbed dry, still a thug cries 

All this paraphilia versus my necrophilia 

How are they record dealing ya? I wasn't ever feeling ya 

This feeling equates professional weapon, can't seal it, bruh 

Deuce deuce, .380, a chopper Beretta millia 

Hov said 30 is the new 20, me, I feel like 30 is the new 40 

I bought 30 new 40s 

A bitch moving pills get 30s to move off me 

Just watch how you moving in Jersey, it's too costly 

And memory with candles is where the energy laying you 

Protect me from my loved ones, enemies I can handle 

If you talking Slaughterhouse please refer to "SlaughterMouse" 

Think twice before you blink twice, you gotta roll with mouth 

Got you birds popping, it's Korver or Kurt Warner mouse 

And I be dolo, nobody gotta come warn the mouse 

Used to take drives through the tunnel, we getting offers now 

Smelled my man a soda, it's teddy, I bridged the water's mouth 

Live from the Horror house, calling out 

Done with all this drawing mouth 

Duke with all the Terry Bradshaw about 

Kill spree, cops should look after 

Y'all be yelling free your mans, I yell at my man stop getting captured 

And all my Irvington niggas over alliance put one in the air for Rev. Ron 

You know we rock with the pastor, moment of silence 

 

Put one in the air with me right quick 

Bruh, we love you, rest in peace 

All my Newark niggas what up? All my niggas over at Chancellor, what's good? 

Surf, I see you, on neighborhood 

What up? Anywhere there's real niggas around, I'm right at home 

Alright, bring my drums back in a minute 

I like this bass though 

I don't think that's gonna change anytime soon though 

Writer:

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