Lyrics:
"Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo
In Los Angele's, like an Evangelist
I can introduce you to your maker
Bring you closer to nature
Ashes after they cremate you
*Written by Bob Geldof
*From the album entitled "Mondo Bongo"
you nigga,
I got the 40/40 made by two jiggas,
I make you "Holla, Holla", I Ja Rule niggas!
The lion's in the room, what up Fat Joe?
I'm Curtis'
""Bring Me Down Pt.3""
(feat. Joe Budden)
Yea, y'all know what the verdict is merciless verbalist
Spitting murderous verses with no preservatives
This is a public service announcement
Sponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records
"Fellow Americans, it is with the utmost
(Maybe in this song, you shouldn't start by saying)
Nigga, I said it, I know that you mad
I've emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned
I be chasing all these dreams like the wild goose chase
When I was chasing all the coochie 'fore I knew how it taste
Went from stu taking takes
an album
Got another one coming
Making money off these n*****
When they try to play the
I messed up, let me try again
Baby girl, I don't know what you
bout' nigga scram
Nigga hollin' on the ground Might catch her up and then I face him
Two grinds and wrote this album Baby Joe, make him eat his maker
Gotta run away
Gotta run away
Fuck up out my face
'Fore i catch a case
Hold up
Gotta run away
I've been keeping score since the other day
Told
[Joe Budden]
Whatever happened to that?
Joey! Yeah
Seems like I gotta buy a weed bag (so easily sidetracked!)
I think it mighta been next week
Mighta
bang
Now think twice fore you speak
Here to take the crown and
I mean by any means (my shit go)
Bang, bang, bang, bang
It go hard in the street
Name
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
Dear future son or daughter
Like the Budden podcast, I'll name you later
I promise I won't be a deadbeat father, I'll treat you better
I won't abuse
momma nigga you can't fade me
[Joe Budden]
They say he a bastard for real, then they see the ass on his girl
So they wonderin, why's he so mad
stu
I locked myself inside this booth
Cut communication with a few
And by the time you hear this shit
I'm workin' album number 2
Like Babyface I get
kill it
I'ma kill it
My nigga its the
M-A-Triple-D-O
Don't forget the C ho
Visualize the audio
Its album number cinco
Lyrics by the Doctor
You're
Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album
enough fellas to be you, nigga
I got the 40/40 made by two jiggas
I make you Holla, Holla, I Ja Rule niggas
The lion's in the room, waddup Fat Joe?
I'm
(after the song ends)
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... As you can see, MUSIC can get you
pretty fucked up...Take a tip from Joe, do like he did,
start him?
Now they can't park him
I go into the booth and just change like Clark Kent
Lamborghini dark tint
Philly blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself
[sample of "If and When" by The Three Degrees + Fat Joe]
I can see loneliness, heading my way
The light, of love has blown out (it's a new day
[sample of "If and When" by The Three Degrees + Fat Joe]
I can see loneliness, heading my way
The light, of love has blown out (it's a new day
steel Eggo
Throwin rhymes in spirals like Joe Klecko
Miami Dolphin, now shut up, close your mouth and
you be hatin debatin, regurgitatin
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