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joey bada$ freestyle with the la leakers | #freestyle005 - joey bada$ lyrics

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[verse 1]

finally got a piece of the profit
wine and cheese and the seat by the c-ckpit
eyein’ me, for your b-tch to be watching
eyein’ me, she kept eyeing me
every day, we just making dees profits
money long, i’m going into deep pockets
hands is to the ceiling when i’m in the building
how you make a living? hmm?
lately never chilling, mind is on a million
things i gotta do
ladies on me with them no time for chilling
no time for you
i’ve been on a different type of time
i live unlike the rest, a different type of grind
i’m on south beach like tony montan
feelin’ like the whole world is mine
and i sit back let your mind run
no man knows when his time gon’ come
every action think about the outcome
cause i never outrun no bullet from a gun
don’t ask malcolm
ask, “how come?”
ask any real n-gg- really ‘bout some
when you in the field n-gg- don’t play dumb
better keep your eyes peeled in the rearview
know a couple n-gg-s in the ville who’d k!ll you
run up with yo’ hands on the wheel and air you out
never give a f-ck, never hear you out
news clip poppin’ up about your whereabouts
you a’int really want the lawsuit don’t go there
got my middle fingers up in my underwear
f-ck the world on some g sh-t
with the waviest flow make ya sea sick
with the rhythm of the lamborghini
she drown i’m tellin’ her to get her friend
white girls and they love me for my melanin
kiss me all over my brown skin
i got the soul of a black king
it takes control when i’m rapping
let the b-tch unload like a mac-10
that’s all i have

[verse 2]
these rap n-gg-s be acting up
pop, man, sh-t, can’t back it up
don’t let me catch you lackin’
i pack you inside then mess ’em up
mark them days on the calendar
don’t you did, that just challenged us
[?]
got heads bobbin’ way out in africa
radios be lacking dough
you can’t front on talent so
imma k!ll like every show, and any foe
and any flow
no flex when i be in the zone
no door watching when i come on
i check in in the microphone
collect this check then i’m headed home
it a’int always been like this
‘member we was broke as sh-t?
saving l’s til next week
my ashtray still got a roach in it
i hit it until my finger tips
get burned at the filter tip
‘fore i learned to take risks
i a’int even have a pot to p-ss in
listen, i’m twisting the system
and missing the recognition
i see the future clearly
my premonitions is scary
pray that they bury me with my soul
it’s been heavenly sent
for the fathers and mothers
of this art that we formin’
we call it hip-hop
n-gg-, guess you must have forgot

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