Lyrics:
time
Said i don’t fall in love Okay maybe ill try
Said no body else home told me I should come by
Now im back on the road doing 80 in miles
And you
flags
Looney's hidin' fists and face
Snakes in grass like somethin' fake
Tune is fire, faith in based
Money comes to me I chase no paper
Got lasers, got
today,
Feel tomorrow like I feel today,
I'll pack my trunk, make ma git away.
Saint Louis woman wid her diamon' rings
Pulls dat man 'roun' by her
old story, guts and no glory
They try and low ball me, do em like Joe Torre
I reintroduce myself to the world, nigga I'm Jerz
I'm a artist, I paint
sit up in this
Bitch and not eat he was like
"I don't give a fuck what
You're mad about, we cooking no matter
What, nigga come on man, let's eat!"
nobody's help
Ya'll don't get no credit, bitch
I did it by myself
Now they all be gunnin' for the kid
I wish 'em well
They pray that I'ma fail, tell them
nobody's help
Ya'll don't get no credit, bitch, I did it by myself
Now they all be gunnin' for the kid, I wish 'em well
They pray that I'ma fail, tell them
at this Joe dude
And think about soul food
Ever since Big Pun died
Homie ain't have no clue
We 'spose to be friends man
Thought we was cool
Yeah I smoked
a bomb,
Just waiting to explode take my clothes all, DVDs, and hit the road,
So you got someone else to truth this, I could tell,
I got someone else to it,
here
'cause I called your name
Move your body close
Baby, it's your turn
Spin that bottle
Don't be shy
Everybody here's got a one-track mind
I f you
fault
When I'm the one in pain
I just wish that you could call me by the proper name
My name is Joe
Yeah, I'm a hoe
But that shit don't define me
I
the streets
No fire in The Valley when I'm burning The Beat
Come a long way from the days in trap
Vacant faces blazing a sack, chasing a bag
Now I'm making
Aang
When I'm on the track and start spitting it
I feel like Zuko I strike with the flames
You don't want smoke with me no way
Like a lion out his
line
There's no "Baby you're fine I want to make you mine"
'Cause Honey was offended by the pick up line
Well excuse me
Well excuse me
Well
Grab the microphone and proceed to roar
Are y'all set, all prepared to start
Move in close cause here comes the dope part
By the way, I'm the Taste,
Michael Jackson
Don’t talk back i smack straight facts then yeah
No stopping
On god they be callin Verstappen
South Delhi can’t you tell by the accent
Stay, a little longer (come here, ma, stay for a little while)
(I know you gotta go home soon, but)
I know you have to go home to him (time just
on road
Y'all heating up but you can't come close
My flow so cold that the mic just froze
Weed so strong my eyes just closed
My mind explodes when I
there ain't no ends
Don't care who the case offend, don't underrate my pen
I got what it takes to win, while ya'll are thinking I'm trash
Loving the taste
clones was born
Yo I know that's corny, no, speaking of corn
Aye yo, fellas wait
Yo Em you three should go celebrate
And what better place to take you
call Him or Abba
Language different the spirit but it ain't no Rasta
Leaders of the pack
Supercharged by the super man, we ain't talkin soljah boy, He
dead
Their voices synchronize with the angels, helping us hold our heads
They are looking down at us all living our crazy lives
Joe I didn't come home
the sound
Every time I come around
Smoking loud by the pound
With some DC Double Downs
Get around underground
I get on with my city
Understand I'm the man
all living our crazy lives,
Joe I didn’t come home to see you,
and that line don’t make things right.
Apologies don’t erase scars from flawed
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