Lyrics:
get a job for my best friend Joe, he used to be a longshoreman. He
helped get a job for his best friend Joe, and Joe became the next foreman.
cigarette
And Joe lit the filter and then he smoked the whole pack
And Joe bought all the gas in Johnny's old Ford
He always said that's what friends were
know that I'll always be true
Hey Joe, where you goin' with that gun in your hand
Hey Joe, where you goin' with that gun in your hand
Gonna shoot my old
This happy hippy huddy hiddy handa
I recall uncle Joe a man of few words
He lives down the road a street next to mine
It's a small town down
And if you judge him by his cover
Cause you blinded
By Your covers
Then I guess he's just and average joe
That you'll never never know
Mix check
One two
ago
But them old times staying man it's hard to let go
Grew up too fast, I'm no longer little angry Joe
No longer bout dreams, I'm just looking at my
the doctor,
"She's very low," he said;
Went back to see my baby
Good God! She's lying there dead.
I went down to old Joe's barroom,
On the corner by
imma diss you (ay, ay, ay)
Old friends get bunn for a reason
That's for the next EP, I'm just teasing
All of Snoot's opps got kicked for a reason
They
friend or foe
Why they do me cold
Got a tag upon the toe
How long the dam feds roll
Meng we'll probably never know
Shit could've been a hater
Cause his old
on me, yea
All the constant negativity, yea
A real friend you don't know how to be, yea
You'll never change
Old friend of mine
Friend of mine
Friend
I’ve had a bad habit
Of hanging with the wrong friends
I made the sacrifice
And found independence
It’s rarely the other way
As I’m cynical to say
I went down to Old Joe's Bar
On the corner by the square
All the men were having drinks, same as usual
And the same old crowd was there
Oh, no...
the Bible isn't two parts
There's a Part Three to the Bible, Joe
And I, God, have anointed you
To dig up this Part Three that is buried by the tree
and waitin as I can see
So treat me like the pope and bow to your knees
Cause the genius of the mic is back again
So get on the phone and go tell a friend
Old joe woke up next morning
And found matilda dead
He buried there his loved one
Beneath an old gum tree
Then softly he said to his ?
My matilda now
with America's #1 DJ, Funkmaster Flex
In collaboration with America's, pardon me, #1 independent rap label, Dipset
And right now I'm accompanied by
trip
Yeah
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe
Catch a biddie by the toe
If she holla, let her know
I am 'bout this fuckin' dough (Uh)
She trying to take mine (Nah)
acknowledge is Teanna bitch
Old friends like let me hold something
Complete strangers, I think I'm yo' cousin
Even though, I'm in love with sin like Joe Budden
to himself and he cussed
He left Sacramento early that mornin'
With a sackful of mail for St. Joe
Had to outrun some outlaws outside Carson City
By
DRUNK IT
Theme: Doing something great by getting slightly drunk that you normally couldn't or wouldn't do.
Verse
I checked her out at the bar out
nigga started this shit
[Chorus]
Be careful what you ask for, Joe got bagged
He got knocked by the feds for some things in his past
Now he rattin'
legs still smell like wine
Give every penny to the friends I find
I'm not trying to build an empire
Just to get by, get high, then die
My perfect life,
ever clear might need to chase it
Oscar De La Hoya have them bobbing I'm weaving a gang warriors
And we mobbing the streets with the same old boys that
polo pants
Never been no bitch you can catch these hands
None my friends switch but some my friends trans
Shawty head goin dumb think it's Joe Biden
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