Lyrics:
someone fucking jizzed on the lid
It's a little bit of Joe pubic hair in his shit
Shit fard, fucking barred by the plunger
Fucking fard like it's thunder
John
You baby dick-sucker
Joe Jackson beat you you better dance
Like James Brown faggot in red leather pants
You made up vitiligo you're
A liar you
kicking it with Nak and the nigga from Green Mile, it's
Red Bull in this cup so a nigga may seem wild but
That's just all the sherm I was burning a little
his block, I'm not the one
Bitch, I'm quick to bust
I be that little red nigga
Call me Baby Joe
Been full of pills and flash off
but I'll crash
Christopher and the girls
He was a little pimp with his hair tied back and all
He walked up and down the streets with a short sleeved shirt and beats
watched the revel from the
Dancing hall back wall
Joe yelled, "Hey there
Clancy! Why you no dancy-Prancy?"
There was a little bit more dook
Dook
There was a little girl, picked up a doll, oh so white as snow
Said, "This is me as I really am"
Same little girl, picked up a doll, looked just
Dogpark looking like a Trader Joe's (roof, roof)
Papillon, mmh, thought you hated those
Other girls, uh, let they shady show
Every time we walk around
letters under candle, delivered by camel
Layin in a dug-out channel's kinda hard to handle
So I say a little prayer to my maker in this blood filled place
you
Driving around this little town
Loving all of you
He got in his truck and started it up
cnd I walked by and said hello
You have a nice dog what's
Joe's hopes were broke
By the dope left looking like a joke
Some days I’m good but most I can't cope
But tonight I’m feeling alright
So I’m gonna get
as the realest you heard
With my pen I kill 'em absurd and rhyme seven syllable word
I'm not your average Joe
Hardcore, far more than the average
I'm
by the president
Your nan she looks like
A motherfucking red chicken uh
Ryan Kray coming at you on the 'bae' to the
A to the B C D E K? Whats
extensions coming booming out that trunk
Assuming that the room in which you zoom's designed by your mind,
not the stars and stripes
But Red Callis booms
Five-year-old Superman got a beach towel cape
And he thinks he can
So he takes a dive off the chicken coop
Red behind and broken foot
Daddy
ready, so ready
I'm a red hot pistol
And I'm ready to fight
I'm a thirty eight special
On a Saturday night
I'm gonna kiss your boo-boo honey
Make it
When on the phone
Baby Joe in new york but he said he gon
Stop by a nigga when ever he touch down
I been hurt back to back I ain't showin love
Ain't been
and you fry in my iron furnace
I am on my get rich or die tryin' like when Em was signin' Curtis
'Cause I am murderous
Joe Budden, Jersey City, New
It was down in old Joe's barroom, on the corner by the square
Where the drinks were served as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood
Use to have a demon, saw red yeah
Chose the water coffin instead yeah
Up sleep walking no bed yeah
No talking just walking instead yeah
Use to have
relate homes, I'm on the fucking streets
Believe it or not, I'm sure there be calmer situations
When dirty cops approach me joe, I'm on probation
somethin
If I wore red or blue, I might be dodgin slugs
So I'm wearin neutral colors from the Crips and Bloods
Who said it never rains in Cali, take back
citys like pulling a mule
Hoes in my city like pulling a mule
Wont fuck on a bitch thats like filling a pool
Live by the code and I live by the rules
Take
to be nicer, Mohombi
Big time, Red one, S Joe
Situation's dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty
Situation's dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty,
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