Lyrics:
I just took a test, it's soundin' like my shit go stupid, lil' bitch
I got like ten percent more left on my to-do list
I rolled by with my old car,
of Joe
I sing and yeah I got the flow
I’m like a wheel that won’t come off
Steady cooking up like the sauce
Your chick she call me boss
Bmore native
money is the code of the streets
Live by it, and they say the hotter the bullets, the colder the streets
Like the older the hammer, the older the beef
to better myself is when I'm bet against by everyone else
So Joe hit the head on the nail
You ain't seen God 'til you starin' down a barrel
I was gun shy,
reach the ceiling
With me myself and I cuz all y'all bitches kneeling
Trust is hard to come by
They come in say goodbye
They turn the blame on you now
He say he dance with the devil
I tell him I pray to the lord
You live by the sword
You die by the sword that’s your reward
We 2 sides of the same
Curtis Jackson known for creatin' action
By rapidly clappin' nigga I stay strapped
So much I nickname gats
Got a tech I call Tina, a nine I name Nina
Two
dancing I'm Joe Jackson with my switch
Catherine street, dipped then got evicted off Wiota street
Copped a Tesla motor, some folders now bitches notice me
If Michael Jackson came alive right now
He'd ask you to smoke one for him
So in his honor
You niggas Spud Webb, coming up short
Think you're Dee
the baby boom has come of age, we'll work it out
I told my brothers don't you ask me for no favors
I'm conditioned by the system, don't you talk to me,
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin
My music keeps you movin, what are you provin?
You know that I'm two levels above you baby
Hug
I gotta get it by any means
I gotta get it by any means
Cook in the kitchen I serve the fiends
Pay what you owe it ain't nothing free
I gotta get
Milestones next step I book a stylist
I'm coming up undercover climbing up the ranks
I show the gratitude I live my life by giving thanks
I take my
face at
And the MAC 11 tucked in where da 12 gauge at
When I was 13 had 14 grams of ajax
Turned 15 start spitting 16s
Of straight crack
By 17, 18th
the advocate
Two words don't go together: Joe and depression
But possible with hopeless objections, motion suppressions
Besides, there's a reason why lawyers
be United like Stateside
I would have blown up by then like Joe
Me and broski just vibin' with it
Are you hearin' the beat? Man's slidin' with it
give a shit, people come and go
It's 24/7 "fuck it" mode
I'm not a player like Pun and Joe (Yeah)
I just happen to crush a lot
Going for rounds like
of Cochise
By Joe Jackson
Should've hired a private eye but they're taxing
Would've gave my friends a try but they're not assassins
No casket but want
FDR the 30th, 1882, the year
Come February, Reagan, on the 6th, he came to be
And, William Harrison, the 9th, he'd join the family
For Lincoln, 'twas
the baby boom has come of age, we'll work it out
I told my brothers don't you ask me for no favors
I'm conditioned by the system, don't you talk to me,
done came and left
I'm by myself, with your traces
And my yard you know it's hard, mentally-scarred
Brain-barred little cousin Joe, I done seen
of that romanticized rubbish
We tend to fantasize and love it
Excuse my African French
That's just me giving a passionate attempt
I've come back from
[Voice in Background]
Look at the little porch monkeys fuckin jiggaboo
[Master P talking]
My ancestor Kunta Kinte said
We come
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