joell ortiz – run this town lyrics
[verse:]
never did i think i wasn’t that n-gga
couple labels said they couldn’t sign a fat n-gga
i went home got in the zone grabbed that pad, n-gga
now they kickin’ theyself in they -ss, look they calves bigger
years later still ain’t got a six pack, n-gga
my fat belly still jiggles when i laugh, n-gga
i coulda stayed on the block, i’m still a crack pitcher
y’all turned away and maybach ‘fore i ac vigor
your wife complaining cause she want her -ss bigger
i’m living life, erry night i’m like jack tripper
y’all showed your -ss when y’all was all in the mag’ pictures
now you’re in the backround ya little ad libber
now everybody won’t be buddy buddy
cause i stay in the light like funny looking money
n-gga i’m nice like your first grade teacher
y’all n-ggas’ flows fishy like mermaid features
hard not to floss when your bars got a cough
your songs got the hiv and there’s sars on your thoughts
if me and you ever lyrically sparred then you lost
you on earth in a lemon i’m on mars in a porsche
and it’s a 9-11 like behind oh of course
i ball like playing rajon rondo in horse
my condo in new york is like an obstacle course
my hallways longer than a far throw to morse
n.y. what it do, i do this rhyme sh-t for you
walk around like “what’s the next beat that i’m gonna chew?”
so this what i decided to do, through all the sweats
and the kicks hit this track and now i run it too
sometimes i hear myself and i’m like d-mn
that’s what happens when i’m in front of a mic stand?
my flow is almost as hard as my right hand
you beating me up’s like a muslim saying he likes ham
seen n-ggas come and go overnight fam
one hit careers, my career has a lifespan
ever wonder what a one hit wonder is
first bat in the pros wasn’t single, but he swung and missed
and every f-ckin’ pitch they threw after that
can’t make contact, the fans scream “this batter’s whack!”
when i’m up, they like “yes, big yaowa papi!”
cause for years i’ve been clutch like a kawasaki
point out anything you heard from me that sounded sloppy
yeah that’s right keep searching like you’re out of sake
any time i’m in that booth you get your -ss whipped
and i’mma keep on fighting like brad pitt
y’all ain’t got the luxury to pick if you gon’ f-ck with me
what i spits crazy like glue so your stuck with me
so y’all can hate me or y’all can sing along
compet-tions dead like a bee when its stinger’s gone
[outro:]
yaowa! yaowa!
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