Ventilation Lyrics - Mood Muzik 3: The Album - Joe Budden

[Joe Budden:] 

Time goes by 

Puffing on lie 

Hopping that it gets me by 

Got a nigga going crazy 

[DJ On Point:] 

We call this on e ventilation 

[Verse 1:] 

Some niggas wanted to kill me 

Got locked up and never found me so my goal is to catch a charge in that same county 

Picture me getting bumped for a silly hand off 

The bullpens fucked up just as Willie Randolph See 

I could pop a few nickel plated glocks to 

It's easier to kill niggas than it is not to 

I let the pot grew 

Then the plot grew 

It the labels job to label you don't fit it and they'll drop you 

Finally made a move on something I been saw 

Sometimes you got to lose the fight if you trying to win the war 

I'm focused on tomorrow 

I'm done seeing my friends in the rearview thing we really closer than we are 

Fuck the record label 

No relation or correlation all my admiration just turned aggravation they say 

How you sit so long when you spew classics? 

I tell niggas I can't understand it "that's blue magic" 

The rap game as is either you on some snap shit 

Or plan ol' stuck in a different decade like the brat is 

I hear niggas joints and take it personal WHY 

Now everybody want to spit about their personal lives 

Before that was none existent 

Me I'm an addict with an addition for anything that seems to cause friction 

Maybe I'm in a relationship with bad Karma 

What her past the somber maybe I attract drama yeah 

Undoubtedly my life is on some VH1 shit 

Just adding some salt and pepper to reality while 

Other artistes is obsessed with more toys 

Like lex, coup, beemers, and benz's there lost boys 

Un I kept brushing off my shoulder till the chip was going 

Left the benz at the dealers till the kit was on 

I don't feel niggas songs 

So while ya'll at the awards I'm loading up on ratches that's the tip I'm on 

Flow is on acid I swear I would have the game mastered if I wasn't so busy carrying baggage 

Calling god a bastard 

Calvin look way different in person then they had him looking in his casket 

I'm looking in his casket like he had no face 

I was at a lost for words like fiasco gate 

So I figured I say a prayer for em got on my knees quick 

And realized "I DON'T EVER PRAY UNTIL I NEED SHIT" 

My soul akin trying to stay low maintains 

I'm stuck in hell waiting on blessing with no patience 

I done made the ave hot 

Been had as stab shot 

Waiting on my jackpot 

Always been a have not 

Always been an under dog little guy still try 

Cause I think I'm a cash cow they treat me like I'm milk dry 

Juggling nickels and dime I'm walking a fine line 

Sometimes you got to just breath maybe give time, time 

Give me a sign kind of shock he won't 

See I want another baby but my pockets don't 

Normally that wouldn't bother me 

Till I wake up and get the paper and read some rich nigga won the lottery 

Young black and shameless 

Shorty keep beefing about the same shit almost like yelling her second language 

Why do I entertain it 

Listen we been arguing about everything for ages do it ever change shit 

Wind up igging each other for the whole week 

It's a lot of men in this world baby you chose me like I chose you 

We been rocking for years you signed up your not a victim you're a volunteer it weird 

Not a cheater on occasion still fuck a bitch 

Who knows why maybe just to be covered 

I'm me she her we both had enough of it but won't leave 

We the only ones who put up with it 

In all areas it's like my stocks crashing 

Wishing all these old motherfuckers would stop rapping 

Trying to be tasteful 

Not mad or hateful