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Joe Budden

Dumb Out

 

Dumb Out

(álbum: Mood Muzik 2: Can It Get Any Worse? - 2006)


It's stuck between platinum and flop, underground and mainstream
Concious, backpack, scratch that, same thing OH
I'm somewhere between the real and the fakeness
The red pill, blue pill, real and the Matrix
And I can't take this; if the game needs a new look
I'm between a tummy tuck and a face lift
And everything I say in these pages
Is straight from the heart, nah magazines, y'all can't rate this
But I'll be debatin it, it's a bit outragous
Like it's an air virus and this shit's contagious NIGGA
I'm downloadin like niggaz actually play this
Maybe I'm buggin out, maybe I'm on a spaceship OHHH
See I was on my stay out chill shit
The way Mouse kills shit, I'm here just to lay out real shit
Besides, other dudes styles remind me of spinnin rims WHY?
That shit got played out real quick KILL 'EM
See some wrote him off, some said he was done
Made a joke of, hope he enjoyed the run
I don't enjoy bein shunned, so I'm back as Neo
Fans enjoyed The One, annoint me as begun
I had the whole hood thinkin he would never eat
Rappers tried to diss, thinkin we would never meet NAH
I heard it if you said it
You wrote it on online then I read it, now I match it nigga bet it
Cause I remember clearly
Once "Pump It Up" stop soarin, there's a few motherfuckers stopped callin
See I remember shit spread like cancer
I would call folks said, folk ain't answer
A few chicks runnin started pullin they pants up
A few stopped actin like my private dancer OOOH
But a lightbulb hit once they started to neglect me
See there I was, thinkin I was all that sexy but I
Nah fuck that
Cause I'm still sexy, young and fly
Knahmean, ya heard?

Look here can't be finished, what nigga I beg ya pard'
I just let niggaz get a head start YEAH
I walk to the finish, y'all spread out chase
Nah sprint out pace, and I'll still win the race YEP
See I'm joggin
Other niggaz legs starts wobblin, when opportunity is start knockin
You got the crown, pass off like Stockton
It's time to work, I'm offically clocked in
He is a problem, weavin and bobbing
Through the speculation that his label tried to drop him NAH
I can't leave, even though it's big options
Kev only signed me, to keep this shit rocking
Don't ask me how I'm doin, I been better
Stuck in cold Feburary, with a thin sweater
I'm far from a "YES" man, I'm a trend setter
It's no games, just a Def Jam Vendetta
Don't put niggaz in the same sink as me
I mean metaphors, storylines, deep shit, club shit, girl shit, world shit
They don't use to ink like me
Niggaz don't even think like me NAH
Who sees what I'm watchin, he ain't popping
Don't deserve to drink water from the tub that I washed in
WAIT, start again, it's a privilege to breath the same air that I farted in
They want no parts with him
How dare niggaz categorize me
If my name's on a mixtape, then capitalize me
I been stopped going to Mixtape Awards
Don't need them to tell me, the mixtapes is yours NAH
I had other ideas, while hittin loot
I'm thinkin red carpet, I went and copped a suit WHOOH
See I'm thinking Grammy's
Sunglasses on, with my On Top family and a bad bitch handy OOHH
He stayed at the "W", it felt like heaven
I'm at an actress's house, that felt like necking
R&B on, looked and felt like Meagan
Gave me headache too, I felt like an Excedrin
Talk very fly
Least until I bought every pie, me me being war ready to my eyes
And these dudes might as well be Jamie Foxx
Trying to sound like somebody that already died
The kid keep a snub wit 'em, good pair of gloves wit 'em
Your first week ain't right, they can't fuck wit 'em
Now if you don't sell 5 mill, they had enough of 'em
Let me find out Hip Hop's turning Republican
I'll sum it up to what he is about
Still new to most, they still feelin him out
Things were type blam, Joey seasoned him out
I'm the nicest dude out since "Reasonable Doubt," say it ain't so
Rest in Peace Luther, there's some other niggaz gay on the low OH
So live, who can see 'em, no guy
I'm the Mets, was suppose to be ill in '05 WHOA
As ill as the flow gets, need a piller don't snitch
So if you can't tell, I'm preparing for '06
About to OD, anybody that know me
Can tell you I'm bout to make shit feel like it's '03
More like '99
No names should be mentioned but mine, unless you talking Big Pun in his prime
Maybe '96 Jay, before Dame was throwing money around
Or 2pac without Humpty around
Or 50 before Em, Nas talking like a gun in his song
Cam'ron during "Children Of The Corn"
Beans before the cops came through and try to grill 'em
I'm talkin '95, Big L before they killed 'em
Em before 8 Mile, Shyne before the deal shit
Canibus, no album out before the L shit
Talking bout Kiss, DMX when he was fucking wit coke
Or "Cuban Linx," Raekwon and Ghost
I do it all, who blending so well in the game
Talking Fab, back when he was still spelling his name MANG
On my Diddy shit, Memphis, Grizzlie shit
Like back in the day when Clue swiped all of Biggie's shit NIGGA
Rappers don't need trouble with I
Unless it's Rass Kass before the D.W.I
Or Talib with Mos, Common before "Be"
If they any less common, don't put 'em before me
See, I'm not a rapper, I'm a prophet
Chill Joe stop it, skill will speak for you, don't pop shit
Fuck jail, I'm on my payroll cop shit
I call that bootleg cable, it's no box shit
All black, looking grimey in the crowd
Heat on him, no sir, don't try me when I'm out
I toast something tiny that'll blauh
Ain't gotta see Paul Wall, if you want something shiney in your mouth
I probably fool cats, cause I don't ride out in some big car
In the streets, like I ain't some big star
And these young mother fuckers, is about to fuck up
Like leaving they whole career in some bitch car
No name, but it's no sublime
Nigga you know who you are, I'll end it before it goes too far
Your buzz still fucked, you a liar money
Joe's still spendin "Pump It Up", "Fire" money
Glock for hire money, don't try to mug me
Call ass cap, maybe be at mines for money
Please, what's wrong wit 'em, something ain't the norm' wit 'em
Ain't too many dudes out there, out performin 'em NAH
Some require these skills, I was born wit 'em
Street's asking what's taking so long wit 'em
Jump Off, I'm the best to happen
He's the answer, the who's got the next in rapping
I suggest you ask 'em
If Hip Hop is all smoke and mirrors, then I'm the Windex and a napkin
New dudes is whack, some vet's is has-been's
Some were Top 20, till I crept right passed 'em
It's a wrap, Joey sealing it nigga
Cold out, Long Johns still dealing it nigga
Still peeling it nigga
If I only get 'em two times, just know it was the dilinger nigga
It's that 'gnac music, don't know how to act music
Getting my Kanye on, putting out "Crack Music"
Car jack music, got what they lack music
Send my little man, get rid of the pack music
That I'm back music, that click clack music
That A-Team, Muggs, that Fab and Stack music
Now who said they fucking with me
They just said that fucking with me, they didn't mean it (NAH)

feito

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