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joe budden - boy looka here freestyle lyrics

[verse 1: joe budden]
only for so long you can keep me quiet
flew a model broad in so you know i’m knee deep at the hyatt
but careful see she be a riot
and she known to stab n-ggas like keke wyatt
f-ck rap, look what they leave me to ride wit
joints that sound like feces compared to my sh-t
pen game down they can’t survive wit
geico bars, a caveman could write it
suprised they don’t tote them things man
i got some ak’s longer than greg oden’s wingspan
some of these slugs is for wanna be thugs
they soft, b-tch made call em summer’s eve thugs
son i’m that n-gga, guns blast quicker
when dopeboyz is short i front em the cash n-gga
i talk about birds cause my hun -ss bigger
you in the pursuit of happiness, bum -ss n-gga
got beef wit locals ain’t been too vocal
to me it’s jus a waste of protools
me versus them is like dolph lundgren wit his hand crammed on apollo
they get the sandman at the apollo
welcome to doomsday i’m kobe in the clutch
tiger wit the club, van damme at the k-mite
roll wit invisible men, but ya’ll know
keep them e-40’s on him, i jus tell em when 2 go
i ain’t the best that done it, jus a wreckless young kid
wit big l’s wit & some lord finesse punches
my deep joints like a mirage of pac’s sh-t
eminem insanity, wit nas’ knowledge
but nah, he ain’t emo he more like a rap hero
trapped like nicholas cage at ground zero
they don’t like jerz they wanna see j done
and they only lovin’ new york on vh1
i can’t front i’m terrified an era died
and if i made an error and its alive
then it should probably be sterilized
i’m h-lla live, jus not on ya screen
they told me the revolution will not be televised
and the fans sayin joe you the truth
mixtapes the gl-ss ceiling and i broke through the roof
i’m more of a hood star
i never been this n-gga to put out 20 tapes
wit jus 4 good bars
you feelin loco lil deranged in the head
be lookin like ghost rider when them flames to ya head
the hood sayin joe don’t pop in
they jus wanna street fight i’d rather stretch money like dhalsim
chillin on the caman’s, shot to the ceiling from the pavement
whats wit all the grilling and the hatin’
when you get your 1st piece of jewelry
you’ll probably understand why i’m walkin round feeling like peyton
got my seat back in that suburban reppin’
since the album’s becoming like an urban legend
but indeed its gon’ help, i’m the only thing that keep gettin better
the longer you leave it on the shelf, uh huh, slight fever
some different type heaters that’s designed to hit every body part like lever
and ya mans ain’t gon have no time to warn you
aside from that hoodie it ain’t no 9’s on you
and crime here’s normal, wit rimmed up cars
rugers & gem stars jus study the memoirs
you want it wit a con come see me
shotguns’ll be comin out the closet like john amechi
they thought he wouldn’t make that baretta go off
cause his shoes gucci, & his leather so soft
i know what you rookies about like britney spears
when i see you guaranteed p-ssy is out, ya heard?
you can’t look for me locally, try vegas
you need a plane ticket though you can’t ride avis
hi haters!, i’m sorry for the hiatus
you know i stay up in p-ssy like vibrators
ya money that short homeslice why wage it
don’t bet check the bookie i’m a high favorite
them beams out have that light set dead for him
& f-ck hoes i’m too right said fred for em
the goons by me i hand em the fo’ fifth
you runnin like they ain’t got the stamina to go wit
them hammers unload quick, my new sh-t is
home invasion find your wifey like anna nicole smith
n-gga don’t move less the cal is on you wait
oh you mad cuz i’m stylin’ on you
play wolf til them real ones howlin’ on you
have every north jersey hood piling on you
it’s jump off for n-ggas that don’t know me
a new jerz giant bought a crib next to osi
slow leak, know he known to keep biscuits
on your block,windows down it’s me b-tches

- joe budden lyrics

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