Joe Budden

Joe Budden - Give Me Reason lyrics

Your rating:


















Whoahhhhhhhhh, whoa

Ladies and gentlemen, you now rockin with the best

(Geah) Jersey City, stand up

Patterson, stand up

Off top.. Just Blaze!





Hold up nigga, slow up nigga

Don't start a war unless your dough's up, nigga

Know what nigga? Joe's up nigga

Y'all shouldn't cry about it, grow up nigga

Guess what y'all?  I know magic

I could make your pulse dissapear and no hat trick

Death threats - it ain't phase me

When I bring the T-Mac through the Rucker y'all, it ain't Tracy

Sewed up nigga, low cut nigga

So keep talin bout your wrists froze up nigga

You might see 30 whips roll up nigga

We be at the pawn shop givin your Rol' up nigga

Just wanted to make that known, you seen _New Jersey Drive_

Round here, leave that Maybach home

Before we vick that homes, we be on y'all jerks

You'll find out the hard way if your On*Star works, cause





I don't, need a reason to bust my guns

So don't, give me reason to bust my guns

You might, be the reason I bust my gun

(Pa-pow, pa-pow - pa-pow, pa-pow)





'Til my day's up nigga, stay up nigga

Play Tony Montana, get your face cut nigga

That goes out to all of you play thug niggaz

How you want it, long nose or the trey snub nigga?

Return and die dog, if I start clappin in your crib

Nah I ain't tryin to turn the lights off

Trapped on the chain, got the jewels and cape

Be like Jared, Subways made him lose his weight, but look

I'm bout gettin money for all races

Only oldie but goodie I know is small faces

Wait, make you sure you heard right; woulda been put the hit out

But I ain't tryin to get my third strike

Lace up nigga, say what nigga?

Your Maybelline raps that you make-up nigga

Wake up nigga, stakes up nigga

For all my locked-down and my cased-up niggaz, cause









Who's that nigga?  New cat nigga

Don't disrespect, don't do that nigga

Hate to hear the sound of the tool clap nigga

Dual strap nigga when I do black niggaz

First hand with a three-eighty kickback

Brains on your lap dog, babysit that

Look, it's my turf, get up off the stoop now

I'm Omar Epps, who got the "Juice" now?

Street love nigga, G's up nigga

You lookin for a loan on your re-up nigga

Haters might wanna put hollows in ya

When you're young black spendin like a lotto winner y'know

I'm grown up now, I'm done with Jake

When I say pounds y'all I'm talkin bout London cake

I can serve it to you uncut or somethin baked

Hope you ready for me folks, cause I'm comin your way, cause
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found