Joe Budden - Overk** lyrics

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Joe Budden - Overk** lyrics

[Heartbreak] Be advised, this kid is on his grind If greatness is what you seek I'm the n***a you will find (me!) I'm lyrically inclined - rap's like tacklin fish with no hook, you can't get 'em on the line Given a little time, Jersey City will prevail The writtens I'm spittin sound like I'm fishin for a whale (uh-huh) Of course I'm sicker, my flow off the Richter I'm forcin n***az to get a bigger scale I gotta excel, so I sell X You're like Nextel, who you gon' tell next? (who?) Can't grind off packs cause y'all watchin 'em I ain't see a dime off rap cause y'all droppin 'em I go hard on tracks, ain't get a buck from it And as far as rats I hope the f**s plummet (fall) I like to mix karate with gunplay So all you dumb chumps get nunchucked to gun-bu*ted The opposite of what y'all embrace The game wants lames that'll march in place Uh, one of the last from the Garden State that spit like he in a jungle goin hard with apes (n***a) [Joe Budden] L-look, look Comin up, used to grab the pound for a dollar Overseas, now prefer the pound over the dollar f**in with that water you get drowned somethin proper He act like an inmate but sound like a scholar I mean - hoppin out, chain danglin, poker grill Sober still, except for an occasional dose of pills Show the steel, all of it 'til it's overk** For Oprah bills I'll turn this b**h into Cloverfield! (n***a) I understand why n***az ain't tryin to bond with me (why?) Fresh as a f**, e'ry day is like the prom for me Rappers ain't fond of me, FRRUCK them, my mom should be The game's fixed anyway - and you could ask Tim Donaghy I'm on some all kinda weed, sleep where the piranhas be And honestly (f'real) I'm e'rything dudes be tryin to be I get money and haul off (now) While they at rock bottom, the poor guys can't even fall off (Joey!) I'm all Spartan, avoid the four sparkin Cause e'rything is funny 'til a n***a's George Carlin Not greedy, I just want a portion of the fortune If all rappers do is record, why would I call 'em? Look, I ain't heard of that (nah) And these haters (k**in' Me Softly) but I don't mind takin on Roberta's Flack I'm known to 1-8-7, murder tracks Go and tell whoever wan' know the king of Jers' is back!

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