JOE BUDDEN lyrics - A Loose Quarter

Momma Said

Original and similar lyrics
[Hook] Here we are, all alone Who gives a fuck about what they say I'm sure I've heard much worse People need to worry about them first People need to learn to mind their business instead of mine Here we are, all alone Who gives a fuck about their dismay But still I'm face to face With the one person I can't replace One person I can't just tell I'm doing fine What up Ma Been a while Lot of catching up to do Know you got a ear full I'm listening [Verse] Momma said she loves me, said she cares Said if I need her, she'll always be there But even her saying that struck me as weird Why did she feel those words I needed to hear? Said she understands me, that was rare Cause no one understands me, not even my peers And these just thoughts I never bother to share So as I write, my eyes start to tear I ain't tell her I'm tired, but still trooping Alone, but I find myself regrouping Ain't say my brain now feel like a prison Figured I'd shut the fuck up and listen She continued, that was honorable Said said I get more and more irresponsible For normal folks, she said that's a challenge Luckily I mask mine behind talent She said "you are no longer yourself" "I don't know what to expect of you" Said I'm putting up with things I normally wouldn't She don't know why it's acceptable She said "people living in your house" "Don't pay shit, not respectable" I told her, they're folk I think highly of She said "well they must think less of you" "Must feel entitled, all you doing" I said I'll fix it, she said no you won't Then I got defensive, but still replied I told her I need them, she said "no you don't" Then she said, "when's the last time you spoke to your father?" I said he's self-centered, why bother? Cause he only really call about his needs And I ain't got enough time to deal with his greed Cause my days are darker Cut from a long shank but the blade is sharper I'm making my not-so-vague departure Tell pop I'm his son, not his spades partner Last time that we spoke He wanted to use the crib, throw a party here Which wasn't partly fair My home need to feel like home Even if I throw a party here Then he catch an attitude And I catch one right back at you We adore each other, but ignore each other Think this is how the fuck I wanna act with you? Things just ain't the same But he sure will call about a Yankee game Like call C.C. and get back to me What's ill is he say it so casually I love him so much he can have all the perks Hurts so much, I take all the Percs Hurts so much but fuck it, it works Hurts so much that I can't sleep Mom say I need to sleep more Then again, she ain't on this stress level So many people rely on me I'm trying to get us all to the next level Wait, told her I took baby girl to the doctor It was only for a check up though And she gave me the face like "Now would be time if there's anything I feel I need to let her know" But, that's just mom again, just being a mom again Looked down at the tat on my arm again God please give me the strength, keep calm again She asked me if Kaylin was pregnant I looked at her like she was crazy Cause that's my baby, what's wrong with a baby? She said "nothing at all when you're not dating a baby" "Beautiful girl, I like everything about her thus far" "I just don't wanna see you fall" "Just a tad bit young, so she got some growing up to do" And I replied don't we all Momma said "why can't you ever be alone" I said what do you mean? Went to correct her, she did it herself She said "at least that's how it seems" Pop ain't called, he's still mad Still pissed, he's still angry I'm still going, no plan of slowing No way I'll ever let his immaturity taint me Momma said that Tahiry called That ain't shock me, they speak a lot She's helpful.....

The Monument

[Busta Rhymes] Yeah, yeah yeah now, what the fuck now Flipmode Wu-Tang shit, what the fuck now Yeah yeah yeah.. Historical and monumental shit What the fuck now Yeah, yeah, yeah Straight smack a nigga right in the face like this was handball Or make a mural out his face up on a damn wall Niggaz play hard and shit; if you know what's best for you y'all niggaz better safeguard your shit Even though we rep brass knuckle rap Fuck with street geniuses and bowlegged chicks who walk with a gap Street niggaz now the corporate boss Still go to y'all resteraunt for steamed fish and Irish moss And y-yo, the way we do it and you see how my shit bomb Your whole show wack and I'ma cancel your sitcom Fuck a nigga broad 'til she tired and real calm You ain't knowin my name tattoed on your bitch arm The way we blow SHIT is a shame Casually bust my gun and celebrate bustin a cork on the champagne Wrote you with a whole new approach that lead a whole team of niggaz Y'all should know I only ball like a coach, NOW! [Raekwon the Chef] Check out the light fixture, freak lines like white bitches Let the mic lines - hang that slang is ridiculous Emperor of warlords, big gun only fuck with sawed-offs That's my specialty, more to bust Shot out my bed parrot keep it gangster Lord I analyze your work those that got merked were not established Texture look classy, arm baby 2000 raspberry S-5, blowin through Asbury Soon to own steakhouses, glowin like makeover thousand Them them niggaz, robbin from Pinkhouse's Show and prove, knockin off cab drivers God, sodomize money, ring two hundred thousand See the color of the carved out Wu emblem Baby, it's all designers, tailor-made Wu gooses Limousine, automatic new uzi's in 'em yo Relax, cousin just cruise through, jewels with him [GZA] Move up the block, giant box blast my song Non-stop strictly hip-hop, march on Doo-rag hang long, metal tape is high-bias Graphics, captured with the colorful, iris I zoom in, while the listeners tune in Some assumin they paid dues and joined the union Lost nigga couldn't rumble in this wild jungle Quick to crumble, type to be on the stand and fumble Divine Master, threw on the track that made 'em bleed He produce at unattainable rains of top speed This powerful magnet, that left 'em stagnant was unlikely in cameras in larger fragments Un-filled rifle, scout sniper, shots precise Starlight scope, with the night vision device Splendid marksman, that'll shoot the one off the dice Split a grain of rice, in one shot we kill 'em twice [*GUNBLAST*]

Renditions Of Reality

TWIZTID "Mostasteless"
When you slip into reality Hoes wanna straddle me Playa haters wanna battle me But I shed em all like calories Prophecy preacher Lend your ear and I'll reach ya And if your willing to be taught I'ma teach ya I'm not a people person Truth is I can't stand too many people So many fake the funk and perpetrate and call me evil But evil is a harsh word. Tell the mockingbird that I said it A man of my word I won't regret it If I let it get to me like it get to them I'm no better. The same message over and over with different sender Playa hatin is an art of a scandalous and shabby person Some do it oh so well I'll be damned if they don't rehearse it. Disperse it to people like me and you everyday And they expect the common man to turn his cheek and walk away And now I pray for an end to the madness No more sadness shall fall to my people That preside to be the baddest And all that they do and say But overshadowed by a cloud turnin night to day It's so tremendous that you couldn't even walk away If you chose to You even supposed to watch the ones you close too Now that's insane Tell me will it change I'm confused, not a thing to lose This shit is far from positive And saddens like the booze Payin dues ain't the only part of duties That bestowedto the chosen Spittin lyrics in the microphone And dodgin playa haters till my temple hit the ceiling And this how they got a nigga feeling I done fell into reality My renditions of reality Call it bad or good,wrong or right Believe in me Believe in me and I'll believe in you One day it's gonna hit me like a ton of bricks I'm feeling so sick, one of my dawgs passed and shit I'm feelin like killin em all But what's that solve He still gonna be dead in the morning, why take the fall Inside I be so mad I'm finna burst Instead of a Chevys My homie's rollin in the back of a hearse. You know it's worse It's too hard to cope with some days Murderous ways leavin me sick and in a daze Comatose, completely tore up Nerves be so bad I wanna throw up I'm bout to blow up In a rage I need to talk, nobody wanna listen On the corner, murder mindstate condition Overload Pull the trigger Stress got the best of suicide Pour out some liquor Another grave digga gets paid Digging a grave for senseless ways . Keep to ourself and stay paid All of my dawgs can't die, I visit the sky and reminisce when I'm high I'm never gonna lie I got love for my peoples Dead or Alive Or we can smoke out in the ride in my memory Yeah Reality is just a fragment A fragment of our souls My eyes are closed My head is spinnin My head is spinnin I don't know. This is a musical masterpiece dedicated to down rydas Keep it in your clique, fuck the Outsiders People hatin' on everything and everything's the same Everybody is a player and life is a silly game It's a damn shame daddy died eleven years today. I wonder if he know I'm doin' straight Could you tell him something If you see my pops before I do Let him know that he's remembered by my crew And everyday in my mind, any place, any time Lookin in the sky for the seventh sign I walk around, nobody knows what I do Sealing fates and date rapes As my body transcends through this portal of life Smokin blunts, wrongin my rights I live for the night Because I melt in the light Completely out of sight For facts so unknown So grotesque never stated on microphones So alone in this fucked up world, it sucks dick Everybody got a problem with somethin Well you can bet I'll be the last one More like the last dragon of sorts To ever let this world contort their way of thinking It's so essential it gives us all the potential To take over the world, in our mentals If I can't live my life the way I wanna live my life Then why can't I die. Why can't I die My renditions of reality Bad or good, wrong or right Yeah (Reality is a fragment inside my soul) Believe in me (My eyes are closed, head spinnin and I don't know (It's just reality, bad or good, wrong or right Believe in me and I'll believe in you) My rendition of reality (And everything's tight) Reality is a fragment inside my soul My eyes are closed, head spinnin and I don't know, and I don't know, and I don't know...

Broadway Melody Of 1974

GENESIS "The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway"
The moment of impact bursts through the silence and in a roar of sound, the final second is prolonged in a world of echoes as if the concrete and clay of Broadway itself was reliving its memories. The last great march past. Newsman stands limp as a whimper as audience and event are locked as one. Bing Crosby coos You don't have to feel pain to sing the blues, you don't have to holla - you don't feel a thing in your dollar collar. Martin Luther King cries Everybody Sing! and rings the grand old liberty bell. Leary, weary of his prison cell, walks on heaven, talks on hell. J.F.K. gives the O.K. to shoot us, sipping Orange Julius and Lemon Brutus. Bare breasted cowboy double decks the triple champion. Who needs Medicare and the 35c flat rate fare, when Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers are dancing through the air? From Broadway Melody stereotypes the band returns to 'Stars and Stripes' bringing a tear to the moonshiner, who's been pouring out his spirit from the illegal still. The pawn broker clears the noisy t ill and clutches his lucky dollar bill. Echoes of the Broadway Everglades, With her mythical madonnas still walking in their shades: Lenny Bruce, declares a truce and plays his other hand. Marshall Mcluhan, casual viewin', head buried in the sand. Sirens on the rooftops wailing, but there's no ship sailing. Groucho, with his movies trailing, stands alone with his punchline failing. Klu Klux Klan serve hot soul food and the band plays 'In the Mood' The cheerleader waves her cyanide wand, there's a smell of peach blossom and bitter almonde. Caryl Chessman sniffs the air and leads the parade, he knows in a scent, you can bottle all you made. There's Howard Hughes in blue suede shoes, smiling at the majorettes smoking Winston Cigarettes. And as the song and dance begins, the children play at home with needles; needles and pins. Then the blackout.

Hood Bitch

[Verse 1: Azealia Banks] I smoke and get high like Project Pat Leave a nigga in the trap like a project rat You wanna fuck with my money bust a hole through ya hat And leave you rotting in the sewer, you the water on tap Cause me and my bitches don't play no more Bum rush a nigga while he picks the juice at the store Get him for his Christian Diors and Mauri gators Niggas called the cops so he said "Come in, chasers" Jesting every fucking skater for his skateboard Wearing BBC denim, nigga, I'm a take yours I'm a shake floors in my dry denim jeans Black tee, black hair, and my lip gloss clean I move like scene when I dip across the abstract Got makeup leave the ticket on the dash I'm looking for the cash cause I'm tryna' cop the double-trunks Boys act stupid so you know I've got to double-bump [Hook: Lime] You're a woman like no other You lift me when I'm down and blue You make me care for you every day There's no other in my life but you Yeah, yeah [Verse 2: Azealia] You like the way Sevens stay up on my hip But the nigga don't never got something in they clip Grip-grip got the chrome zip aimed at your lip Never seen a young bitch pop like this Yup, and the niggas really like this Nameplate in the middle of my nice tits Diesel and I'm higher than your flight is On Verde day y'all playin' where the kites is Stay steamin' where the sites is Y'all bitches still gleaming at the prices See through females like a psychic She's mad cause her man wanna pipe this She could fuck around and get chopped into slices Body parts in the gutter where the crap dice is And that one'll be a cold case They found her head, it was missing her whole face See I'm a scratch city And I reach for the tech and spray I spray just like Air Wick and Glade But you won't smell white lilies and sage Wow this little girl sounds insane I've been listening to Wayne and piffing up the brain Long black weave and a few gold chains Semi-automatic and some real good brain [Hook: Lime] [Bridge: Azealia] I spit heavy on the beat like I'm tryna' get the taste out Them other niggas on it like they got the cake mouth Seventeen, been hot since I came out Got every whack rapper shaking like a change pouch I make out then I send a nigga's face off Then to the left, boy you gotta break out Don't let the door hit you where the good lord split you And the fifth will leave pool on the floor with you Bitches better get like me Fuck love I keep a couple tricks up my sleeve So when one leaves another nigga's in the elevator So take the stairs, not the elevator [Hook: Lime]

Certified Gangsta

JIM JONES "On My Way To Church"
[Verse: Jim Jones] You know I keep my eyes wide East side high risers West side low riders vest with the four-fire Yes I fo sho fire D-I-P low rider See police, slow the ride See scwalay , nigga 'Cause they be thinking that the ride stolen Keep your head up and your eyes open Load the lead up while the ride rollin Creep up on a motha like what you say fucka Well fuck him and if he live smoke him We don't appeal to the law You know we ride this motherfucker till them wheels fall off And the first bastard get fly You know blad, blad, blad, was my reply 89 wolf pack and we wylin P-89 pull gats 'cause we violent, shit, yea We put coke on the strip Don't quote me boy 'cause I ain't said shit [Chorus: Bezel] Since I made a gang of bucks Nah I ain't been hanging much Still slide through fly coupes, and the chains is plush Keep the banger tucked 'case I had to bang a fuck 'Cause we Certified Gangstas All day we hanging smut, dog with a gang of ducks Hundred grand on the hand, Game got the range of trucks Kill wit the deal, still got cane to cut 'Cause we Certified Gangstas [Verse: Cam'Ron] We still in ages of glocks Razors or octs 'Cause I lay in the drop Pump the base on the pocket Move the H on our block, in front of H&R Block See the face on our watch, put your face on our cock I keep the looga hug Show you how to use the snub Whoop-te-woo, fuck around be you I plug I don't do the drugs, baby I move the drugs Right on the computer love, it sound like computer love Duck the cop-cappers And them top-hatters Fock flavors, harlem world we got gators Not dead I said they alive Lions, Tigers, Bears, oh my It's a straight zoo A to Z, May to April Bring the Apes through Fuck around you be ape food, baked food 9 bitches 8 dudes Diamond visions, great cubes Get it straight fool [Chorus] [Verse: Jim Jones] You know I ride through Lennox All eyes on my pendant But I'm moving like oh dog was ridding a menace With that automatic weapon, blowing live through my tennant While I'm breezin' through the jects, blowing live on the tennants I'm pouring liquor for the dead and gone And we retaly same night, load the blinkers with the leaders on We come to get you till the dead and morn (Knock, Knock wake up mothafucker, you know who it is) Killa and Jones coppin one dawn Big birds, the rocks and our charms He got the bird, the glocks in my palm I got the word from King Joffrey the bomb My nigga zeekey surely a hard rock How he survived them 40-sum-odd shots As we ride he screamed out eastside All the time as I reply [Chorus]

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