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joell ortiz - so wrong lyrics

[produced by frank dukes]

[verse 1: talib kweli]
cutting n-ggas down like the amazon for posing like the cameras on
and push it with joell ortiz getting my spanish on
yo tego hombre we eating
money is nathan
i’m freaking these conjugations deep in their conversation
with people facin satan
i bring ’em the word of god
my observation: disturbing my words to murder your squad
i pull the trigger with my tongue
grab the bible, like brigham young
spit fire my brain is the bigger gun
i’m from brooklyn where i’m from we calling n-ggas son
it’s cause we shining through the night break out the flashlights
you must be on a sure flight cause you packed light
behave man, i beat cavemen with stalagmites
get up to fight you too tired for another round
they say i’m worshipping the devil cause i run this town
now let me run it down and raise the steaks like a boarderhouse
with one fourth of the slaughterhouse

[verse 2: joell ortiz]
the most esquisite so gifted more like a wizard
i spit it a frigid blizzard of lyrics what i exhibit
to finish you little midgets
admit it, you’ll all diminish
for mimicking my image i’m the sickest n-gga, forget it
you’ll never be near as clever or better
every letter will sever your metal or medulla whatever
you fellas are feathers don’t measure up well with a heavy medicine pedal
an incredible pelle leather rockin hip hop fererer
better off servin em
every word got a purpose murderous verses
emerging beneath the surface like volcanos i burn
every person on earth should be nervous become service and worship
the permanently perfect version of merciless copernicus
i was simple as stars an astronomer
found my bars a kilometer over mars near andromeda
a phenomenon
no common dynamotor able to monitor
my temperature will pressure and crush your barometor

[hook: brother ali]
been telling me that i’m so wrong
kickin through like a rolling stone
i built this building all on my own
i’m at home on this microphone
y’all don’t hear me though
been telling me that i’m so wrong
kickin through like a rolling stone
i built this building all on my own
i’m at home on this microphone

[verse 3: brother ali]
i finally figured the compet-tion
on a mission to gimme a pot to p-ss in
i work hard, play harder than hard decisions
facing all like a head on car collision
dig it bout to forgive y’all what y’all been missing
something crispy for ya listening organism
awww sh-t god forbid your my opposition
all that salt gon get you a heart condition
pimpin, the plot thickens
the shot that you kick a make your b-lls like rock while your feet get lost
get dropped on your seat
exhausted by the heat
then tossed in the meat grinder
grind to the beat
two thousand and ten i’m in house again
straight six pm and ain’t about to bend
close your eyes and count to ten
get that mic out your hand we don’t know where your mouth has been
street feeder, a street preacher
key note keepin peace keeper, elite
true believer, few g’s can keep up
don’t need your critique or your halftime speech neither
emcee phoenix sweet jesus retreat it
wouldn’t believe it if indeed they don’t see it
they take the chief cheeba chief it, try to sneak a peek
into the recesses is of my deep seeded g*nius

[hook]

[verse 4: jean grae]
greasy sl!ck talker, kid picker
sh-t sparker the lit bender the big sister
face puncher when your b-ss jumping off a cliff
the race mix face morphing pick pain off your chick
lips spitting webs like kris and parker
peter pardon
flip junk and just to boost the whips magnetism
the vast magnum hitter, grown woman
don’t start a black woman on some no he didn’t
no prison going no vixen roll playing sista
no gold digger, ho sh-t
i’m a boulder br-ss a ceremonious master
second to only have to wait, no b-tch
oppose that the cold facts hard one simultaneously
with the bars will get you bar none proof
i’m amazing
group spontaneous to burst
and i lay in a verse
upon naming me to birth
they just placed me in the booth and i said
yeah i was talking
i was walking on the first day and you wasn’t
second day sparking in the cot with my cousin
three, four parking in the lot playing dozens
five on the block y’all be hugging
six doing shots of the l!cks tripping, buzzing
seventh i rested
i wasn’t exhausted
i was taking a break so you can go and do your sh-t

[hook]

- joell ortiz lyrics

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