Artist: Joe Budden Album: Mood Muzik 4: A Turn 4 the Worst Song: No Idea Typed by: PDog1217@aol.com [Intro - Joe Budden - talking] Uh Check this shit I just wrote this shit Check this shit out [Verse 1 - Joe Budden] Look, I was always told you can't make it make sense, don't trust it So I be out the country with the phone on - fuck it Grown from when I was dusted But took somethin away out of every moment I suffered So y'all can go on and judge it There's a reason that I'm tellin baby girl she gotta practice patience I plan on changin my ways, I'm just procrastinatin Puttin it off like I'll never be in a casket layin (until) With both my parents goin crazy as the pastor's prayin Prideful, I don't even succumb when defeated All that do is get me mad and I'm comfortable heated I come from a family of drunks, I'm the one that succeeded So nowadays I talk to God, when nothin is needed (Father, forgive me?) I'm sorry I don't speak the language of Rappers that's in the closet but they won't hang it up I'm only tryin to build what they attempt to destroy We had a perfect game until it was Jim Joyce'd Check it, what was once so majestic, is now only adored by epileptics I record to resurrect it, by my own accord I can't accept it But when somethin gives you nightmares, can you afford to recollect it? If you can just know them odds stacked "Airplanes ain't shootin stars", you can't B.o.B that I found out when it come to discussin paper Some'll sell they soul and deal with the repercussions later [Chorus - Joe Budden] With every curve they throw, every shot that blows, I'm still here It be the ones that's pretendin to know, really have no idea I just let 'em all go ahead and speak my name How far you gonna reach for fame? Go ahead, fuck up your career I don't care, 'cause they have no idea [Verse 2 - Joe Budden] Check it, so sick, it's livid, all pics are vivid A stip' of bein gifted, gotta be equipped to live with His critics, misquote him and miss tidbits So he's mislabeled, misunderstood, misfitted (talk to 'em) Anytime I was misinformed or misguided I went and got advice from a dude that wouldn't apply it And he'll give out that lesson for free Without a grudge but I keep the past present with me So every morning on the wake up, she's applyin makeup And I'm ponderin all the different ways for us to break up (why?) Women have a tendency to get fickle Predictable, lie and say his dick little It be the ones you could see yourself with forever Givin you a lecture, talkin about you neglect her Couple years in, the strip club will upset her And she'll act like you ain't have them same habits when you met her When you can't take her You start droppin hints for her to read between the lines but she'll act like Fantasia It'll be so much to be said but no one'll convey it The relationship will be over but no one'll say it A doomed fate, livin with who you'd soon hate Ex-life partners trying to co-exist as roommates Once you go through it, you'll believe it And you'll never give a woman more than you'll want her to leave with (oh!) [Chorus] [Verse 3 - Joe Budden] Check it, how can the fans think us rappers are invincible? Can't find anything about that logic that's sensible I'm thinkin they should know better off of principle To them we're action heroes, to labels we're "Expendables" (talk to 'em) My old approach was apprehensible Some started thinkin they fifteen minutes of fame was extendable (nah) They don't cherish the moment like they probably should Once they star's cemented, they act Hollywood Gwapped up stacks to grip Now you're being chauffeured in the back of whips, lifestyle's immaculate Out of touch with reality, I'll help you get a grasp of it Success breeds change but so does a lack of it The homies sendin out subliminals Since you a failed rapper, failed criminal, four bars the minimal Since you ain't from the streets, I'll help and tell you the way it works Say a nigga snitchin, I'm sayin "show me the paper work" I don't get why the inferior bother to diss me Heart of my city, when I go, takin part of it with me I think God'll understand that was part of my misery So instead of "Father forgive me," it's "Father, ya dig me?" Spectated just to see if I'd be checkmated Less progress brings less hatred, which would segue it I learned the hard way some things are better kept sacred Fail at given 'em your all, you'll just be left naked [Chorus] - w/ ad libs [Outro - Joe Budden - talking] (*echo*) One more 'gain, oh! Oh! Joey!