Joe Budden | Funk Flex | #Freestyle008

[Intro]
My name is Joe Budden
One fourth of the group Slaughterhouse
And I came to tell the truth with Funkmaster Flex
Mic check, mic check
One two, one two
First of all I want to shout out to House Gang
Second of all and probably should be first of all, I want to shout out New Jersey
Third of all I want to shout out to Flex
I love everybody man

[Verse 1]
It's like my little dude smiled with excitement, asked if I know..
Wait, I stopped the whip, didn't acknowledge it
I figured most of these styles I godfathered it
That's Godfather shit, words be my only hollow tips
That moment like I can stop time like with that Hollow kid
Gospel with the Apollo shit, sorry I'm no apologist, wait
Here's a glimpse of my stake and then if you may
Niggas couldn't commence their successes without my mistakes
See I tend to think in opposites, never moderate
Look, momma, I made it this far without a scholarship
The drama bouncing multiple commas I deposited
All the more reason to look up 'cause I'm an optimist
Nah, I’m a protagonist, speak with such honestness
Bound to keep it funky with the blood stream of parliament
No argument, follow in the blueprint that my hood wrote
So every footnote put my foot in that quote
The way it appears the grading system ain’t fair
Same result as the turtle chasing the hare
Is what these races appear to differ
Paces to gear help at making that clear
You niggas ran off on the plug, not me, I stayed right there
So if it’s gotta be a thing the shotty gon’ be clean
You see the rage is even deadly outside of the machine
Anytime they thought they had me robbed, got nothing off me
Ninas had to drop uptown, brother was saucy
The Nina woke a dreamer right up, cup of coffee
Blink of an eye, Harlem niggas..

[Bridge]
Fab what up though? Shout out to you
Araab what up I see you my nigga you couldn’t be here
But you here in spirit
And shout out to all the fans
And shout out to Jersey City, Albee Al
Check this out we gon do this like this

[Verse 2]
Listen, you never see how I handle the spot
Been on both sides of the fence, seen the hammock and cot
I give a fuck if young niggas understand it or not
Sometimes you gotta show the kids you really ran with the Roc
It’s like I’m back on Def Jam again
You niggas keep being deaf, I just jam again
Ya’ll see how I’m handling
New Benz, big boy coupe, seat reclining though
Black piping on white seats blastin' Domino
I pull up, honk that horn, she know it’s time to go
She take long, windows down, I’m screaming “vámonos”
Lately I’ve been dealing with hate, all kind of trolls
I’m just tryna stack this bread, Phyllis Hyman notes
But off that, my main point, back to rhyming though
Bitches get beside themselves like watching Quantico
And that fool get wet by the tool
Play superhero here, might lead to a dead pool
I'm surrounded by fuck niggas, always hated you niggas
I'm feeling like Trump, nigga, I'm writing the trump nigga
Them boys got you..
Jesus, Mary and Joseph
Listen, relax partner
Should back slap both you and the Snapchat blogger
Wish ya'll were a tad smarter
Besides you jabbed first, but both knew my jab back harder
A tad fast like zab at the sparring, that man Tha Carter
Look, for any man to bad bar up
The Joe can get hot, just ask Starbucks
Act of horror vs faggot's aura
Feel like a bad father that ain't been off the bar much
Listen, the bad charger to your Apple harbor
Meanwhile you're mortal, you're more magic marker
It's an issue, Joe make it a big one
Can't Bell Biv DeVoe your way out of this one
So I'm taking off Spring from my offspring
Since the young boy want jump, we get him all spring
Give him a reason since y'all don't like me
I'm seasoned, better ask Kyle bout Lowry
Listen, the top MC rep's over
My nigga, I keep shooting 'till nothing's left over
And while we're talking bout leftovers
Four niggas...

[Outro]
Joe Budden Mood Muzik Entertainment
Slaughterhouse
Flex, Ali, Cyn, Mum, Dad, God
Everybody I love
I’m not in love, love is in me
There’s still MC’s in the world
Anybody got something to say
If it ain’t a bar I ain’t addressing it
If it ain’t directly directed at me I don’t respect it
Jersey we gone