Intro: Joey Badass] Yeah Word is fuckin born man ... myself how I do this shit
[Verse 1: Joey Badass] Got the Reggie from the Bush Get lifted like a saint off the kush Man all my niggas push so I always got the zipstock in the Ziplock They know, like Ralph flip stock, hit the Mary, won't kiss and tell My lips locked but my grip's not so I pass it off Real burners, and we ashin' off the furniture Fuck your couch, bitch, hush your mouth She said she fell in one of them Ls, but let's don't count These chickens don't love me, they love the account But they will never know what's the amount? I keep the hoes in check 'Til they bounce, don't ever let a chick see you withdrawin' These niggas want to know what I draw with But won't respond to what I've drawn Tetrahedrons, take a dose of Patron Mixin' knowledge juicing, deuce 'Cuse and Metatron They wouldn't hear the tone through a megaphone, let alone Cella phone, but my line stay hella blown Hella blown, hella blown
[Hook:] Word is born Fuck the world til I'm gone
[Verse 2: Joey BAdass] Yo Houston, we got a problem, copy Four, five hotties in the lobby So they can blow the rockets properly, but blowing spots never stop Like them hockeys, they never get aqui to my prothy Known around my city like George Pataki Young Jason for them dollars in the mix like teriyaki And round four, I force my large Versace Over my big head, cause I don't live here, she getting too cocky Won't spot me in no closet I ain't like Kels and them A closet full of arm limbs and a skeleton
[Hook x3]
[Verse 3: Joey Badass] I spray nines on fours, but if you pick five emcees Ever, ain't gone flow like me, nigga I'm too sick I mean too sick, sent to Earth just to shit Mommy, come stay, it's some new stick, I demand, I don't give two shits Better tell that doofus deuces before he catch you whipping In a minute, Charles Dickens'll strip him for his Scottie Pippens Cause it's all about the big pimpin' Rob him for his Nixon, and then question him about his timing Right here, it gets reckless, best advice is To tuck your necklace, and put your arms right back into your Lexus Cause G-Stone crips, they ain't nothing To flex when the Billy Gate... the really on some next shit So if I were you I would probably ride with two No fool, not two dudes, two tools As in deuce - deuce cause niggas jock you for your soul And your new shoes and your jewels too There's something about another nigga having shit That have a nigga spazzing clips all up in your back and dent Cause it's all about bagging the baddest chick Stacking them trays up in Saks Fifth But word is bond, you been on Word is bond, you been on