Lyrics:
I'll shit on you
I'm a alcoholic, with the fuckin' toilet
Pass the hot dogs (Bizarre aren't you Islamic?)
Bitch shut your fuckin' mouth
I'm a keep
individual
Runnin' run his mouth throw some hands with the general
Walk one day in the shoes of a criminal
Death disease keep your luxuries to a minimal
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
you need crack to see me
I'm a classic, one of your old scratched up CDs
Check my swag it's easy
As you can see, I do the damn thing and I ain't Fab
mouth, 'n Joe South
And that's home to me
California, I love you, your hills are high and your oceans blue
In LA there's always something to do,
Ladies and gentlemen
Thank you for flying Stoner Airlines
My names J
I'll be your flight attendant today
And we'll be coming through shortly
With our
And I ain't got no time for that, tryin to get to this money love
Homie trust, I'm only gettin my paper up
Counting Franklins, Jacksons, Grants
You can
at you, my knife cut your skin
I'll get at you, blow shots at you man
I'll get at you, Tupac don't pretend
I'll get at you, I'll put that to an end
fucking Cobra move
Snake charmer, Parcel-mouth
Talk shit and then ship it out
If you thinking I'm talking that tongue and cheek
Bitch bite yours off or I'ma
Then I'd best not catch this flick on YouTube, YouTube
'Cause if you run your mouth
And brag about this secret rendezvous
I will hunt you down
'Cause
Split your venom down their drinks
Walk right by and let it sink
Run your mouth to wind me up
I’ll just be here with my cup
Tell them this and tell
bustin' slugs
We sure to stay in touch and clean your mess up
And if you from the West Coast, my n*gga westside
[Verse 3: Nas]
Game got at me about
That's like Mike fucking with Poppa Joe Jackson
Ass-whoop all over the place, you can't hide behind
The physical, better run to the spiritual
Ass-whoop
bitch I'm out here
Wear the wrong color you can't come around here
So get your mind right and keep your pistol close
Hoppin' out that ride run into
real
And let you meet that .44
Run your mouth you in the trunk
Glock to your head nowhere to run
Catch you niggas when you by yourself
We gon' hit
shitty isn't it
But you better mind your business
See we bust
Niggas like us, shit we leaving no witness
(believe it) real, it's real my nigga
Getting
just to run they mouth
I be skippin' leg day, I still run the world
I pressed ahead of your team with one finger curled
I'll line you all up with one
and the hair
And the rest of her
And when I look at her now
I still see her young and beautiful
She's my girl and I'm her Joe
And we're not what you see
Ear to the street, my lyrics, you could feel a pulse (feel a pulse)
Put your glass up, let's have a toast (salute)
Twenty years in this game, me,
didn't know me then, then just- just shut your mouth
You didn't know me in the north, so don't call when it goes south
Think I'm giving you my route? No,
Like Malcolm said it I gotta get it by any means
Coming from a place gunshots wake you up out your sleep
Trying to make it global its niggas dying
out the shit break bitch because I'll just
Pistol whip your ass and slam the tape
I pop if you wanna brake and dump you off in the lake
Run if you
a helicopta’, nigga
Mhm mhm
Excuse me
Do me a favor. By the end of the day I need 40 more haters
Winning on my neck so I never go change it
Ain’t no business like
Wealthy, still kill for my podna
And I don’t know how I
Live with these problems (Problems)
You know you can’t live when
It’s money on your head
My youngin’
Discuss these you run your mouth ill run my business by joe jackson Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In