Joe Budden - Move On lyrics

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Joe Budden - Move On lyrics

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz] No I don't respond with answers that fit a script So the repetition will make a n***a flip We in the game of smoke and mirrors Those engineering a bigger spliff Blowing circles out they mouth getting praise but the sh** is shift I never lived a myth, if I said it I did it Never alleged, word to dead I gripped a fifth I made my housing tenement a strip, moving medicine in nicks When I seen them coming I jetted from them pricks And still to this day, though she clean, I wish my mommy never sniffed But the hurt is making me better with this gift I'm live with this ink, you could die in a blink and Y'all got the nerve to ask me why do I drink and Motherf**ers, sometimes I cry when I'm thinking Y'all ain't there when them tears being dried by the sink It was cold in the winter, my community centers who gave me dinner I ain't mind, my table chairs gave me splinters Set up to be a loser but was made to be a winner If they paint Hip-Hop I bet my face be in the picture If they wrote a rap bible, bet my name be in the scriptures If shorty say I'm her idol, bet her face be in my zipper I came a long way from the staples in my skrilla Stains on my pants hardly had a cut The ladies ain't want to dance so house parties would s** All my friends on the wall, I'm in the hall with a couple Nah I ain't complaining, just telling y'all what it is So if y'all going through it now just know that another kid Made something out of nothing - well I'm fronting, I was never nothing Older ladies used to tell my mother "Ain't he something?" I look at a lot of you cats and laugh Cuz I'm the sh**, man, and y'all ain't even pa**ing gas When I spit, I'm the definition of mastered craft And all y'all ask about is Aftermath Motherf**er move on [Verse 2: Joe Budden] I got to give my own interview Since n***as that do my interviews focus on whatever's miniscule And paint me as a cynical But the canvas will limit you, you can't go beyond what there's no limit to If I think Hip-Hop is dead I think it's being revived And that comes from me being inside Where the demons get by, see them goodbye If I'm vehement here's why Come from hearing it and seeing venomous lies So the beast in me cried cuz when it's all you hear sh** can overbear just when the over in air So I try to think straight cuz when you stare in the rear Rest in peace Stewart Shakir, n***a yea I'm on another label, not that other label That mean it's no longer my problem, it's theirs Some say it's a conspir'ce I say if everybody's on the throne that's just more motive to k** the heir Ask me about 'Pump It Up' and I'm a think you sheep Oh you must not know I'm deep I'm so off of music so y'all can soundscan every week Me? I just got my little man every week Jersey City loves me despite y'all beliefs Cuz they was baby stepping, I showed them how to leap Ask me about swag I'm a change the topic to lyrics and then brag Plus look at you like a f*g I love everybody, don't ask about who I beef with They burnt the bridge but they was standing underneath it I'm on my grind, Benjamin hunting Was old since I was young, call me Benjamin bu*ton Stop using slang just for you to be cool Cuz I go back to when it was cool to be you I'm a hero, no I mean I'm Hiro from Heroes Y'all chase zeros Motherf**er I just got finished hating me, feeling like a zero They played De Niro, never been there though So before your next thought, understand Know it's much more to me than a man Either that or move on [Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"] My rhymes a reflection of Scarface and Prem's soul Before Jordan was wearing four five I just look like this, I just seemed old But I had to bleed the blood of a dirty motherf**er To suffer clean clothes and touch what a king holds The real estate market is harsh, everything goes From folds to who you was doing everything for But I cut them off and move on to the new checks New friends chasing my new ends with new threats Watching my dreams fold like a stack of bills In the pocket of who ain't trying to push up daffodils But we the super group, you couldn't handle this sh** If you were standing before us carrying the pooper scoop You dealt with shady sh**? I dealt with shady sh** But I'm the only one can truly say I dealt with Shady's sh** I mean that with all respect to Paul and Shect But Ryan and Marshal is all you get My flows superb, I love Pauli Rosenberg What I say in a track those just words Baby boy forgive me, I'm just street Cuz I can change into anything n***as want me to be like Mystique I don't got to dig deep to realize Slim bought Big Proof a big jeep Because he deserved it, how can I mourn The same way Shady did over him when he knew him when he attended Osborne? Marshal I'm sorry, I knew it went left I ain't into f**ing my family like incest If you remember ice used to be my life's interest Tell Hailey my wife just had a princess Since I made up with Em there's nothing else That I can move on from so who wants some Like a jar of Grey Poupon You have to ask anybody in any car Want it? Or move on [Verse 4: Crooked I] When fans picture my interviews they think I'm in a swimming pool With women who've been abused So they turn into strippers making they living in the nude One in the middle blowing my inner tube while the interviewers getting ridiculed Is this your vision? Cool. Let me give you a little j**el Any dude who want to sit in my tennis shoes is missing screws Don't get it misconstrued, don't get this sh** confused I'm two seconds from prison food, I'm a different dude Pistol in my reach, man, still in Long Beach, man Hoping if my grind don't help me get out, my speech can I been in the streets longer than Yao Ming's wingspan You can be MTV, I'll be C-Span I deal with politics, bandannas and hollow tipsHalf you rappers follow this, role models can swallow dick Was stressed out over cash flow Hip-Hop used to console my soul, now it's a bunch of a**holes Rap about a dance while I'm targeting cops Spit some sh** for Oscar Grant, hit the sergeant with shots Make him a +ghost+ like he part of The Lox I won't stop recording till I'm making songs harder than Pac's If it don't happen, at least a n***a know he right there Every memory under my Dodger hat's a nightmare As a kid I had to steal breakfast And now the best question you have to ask me, "Is this a real necklace?" "Where's your beat from Dre?" "Your feature from Cube?" These things leave people confused Cuz they know I leave speakers abused, I eat the EQs I eat through the beat, what's the secret? I think it's the shoes Back in Cali, n***as blaze and stress Waiting on Detox to save the West Even if the sh** is dope it ain't giving you n***as hope Unless your signature's wrote on the check from Interscope, nope Move on

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