Joe Budden - Blood On The Wall (Produced By Moss) | Текст песни

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• Joe Budden
• Blood On The Wall (Produced By Moss)

[Intro: Joe Budden]
Whoo! (Uhh, welcome) Ohhh!
I'd like to welcome e'rybody, welcome e'rybody (yo y-yo yo yo)
To the muh'fuckin Padded Room (yo, y-yo, yo)

[Joe Budden]
How many niggaz fell victim to the streets
Rest in peace young nigga, it's a heaven for a G
I'd be a liar if I told you that I never thought of death
My nigga, we the last ones left (l-look) l-look (l-look)
I said - how many niggaz fell victim to the streets
Rest in peace young nigga, it's a heaven for
I'd be a liar if I told you that I never thought of death (l-look look)
My nigga, we the last ones left; but life goes on

And I ain't gon' stop 'til a nigga see blood on the wall!

L-look, look, look, look
Maybe it started with the rims on the whip
Uh, I lost the Hummer, push the Benz through the strip
But I'll swim with the fish before I lend niggaz shit
Cause personally, they ain't worth the phlegm that I spit
That's why, sometimes I think the end's comin quick
My old ass father shot twins out his dick
So, if they so happen to come out without a older brother
Won't be alone cause comin up at least they'll have each other
At least they'll one another cause life's a muh'fucker
But while I'm here my only job is not to see 'em suffer
Through dope boys, shootouts, stick-ups and undercovers
The world is full of suckers but don't worry, I'm your buffer
Buffer, like I shoulda been for BJ
Well he never listened to nothin we say
(It was) half past 12, midnight on a weekday
Not even 20 hours past his release date, we stay
This nigga hit him up four times, one kick the heart
And that kicked my heart
Call his pops, niggaz pick the phone up
So he can come find his son lyin in his own (blood) blood
On the block that we ran through
House we grew up in, corner we would post on
Shot dead in front of niggaz we would be with
But how the fuck nobody see shit? (nigga)
It's on there to be a brother to his brother lucky
Cause in the belly of the beast I know this shit get ugly
Get on my knees and have a convo with the Lord above me
Maybe sometimes I hear him wrong, I think he sayin "Fuck me"
Only he could judge me, care less what they thinkin of me
Cause honestly I'd be aight if no one ever love me (love me)
I write "I only fear Joe" in blood
Smeared slow on my brain by my earlobe (earlobe)

And I ain't gon' stop 'til a nigga see blood on the wall!

Y-yo, yo, yo
All I tried do is raise the bar
See my, weeks is scabbed up, days are scarred
Still I love to see a muh'fucker hate from far
More they talk 'bout me the more I pray for y'all
I mean, I don't get how Prodigy gon' acknowledge me
When the nigga 'bout as big as an apostrophe (ohh!)
For him to possibly think that he is hot as me
is far from a prophecy, it's more like a mockery
Used to be hip-hop to me, 'fore you bombarded me
with everything ass like side of me has gotta be drugs
Four-fifths and snubs, what's that about?
Nigga you can't lift the guns that you rappin 'bout
But real talk, I can't front on your old shit
Now you just old as shit! Not old and sick
'Stead of holdin my dick, here's a better way (dawg)
Never mind me, worry about your Medicaid
... Shit's so unfair
Nigga beats carried your ass most of your career
Wanna blog, here's a reason - I FUCKS "Murda Music"
Anybody ever dissed this nigga is still breathin
Jay-Z, Saigon, Nas already peeled him
2Pac, he ain't alive but you ain't kill him
50 signs the bum only cause where he was from
Put his stamp on a nigga and still nobody feels him
Not a murderer, a gangsta, robber
Washed up 90's nigga, now a gangsta blogger
Me that, underground flow strike like the pound blow
Your sound's old,

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