Letra Give Me A Reason - Joe Budden
Whoahhhhhhhhh, whoa
Ladies and gentlemen, you now rockin with the best
(Geah) Jersey City, stand up
Patterson, stand up
Off top.. Just Blaze!
[Joe Budden]
Hold up ni***, slow up ni***
Don't start a war unless your dough's up, ni***
Know what ni***? Joe's up ni***
Y'all shouldn't cry about it, grow up ni***
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 ni***, low cut ni***
So keep talin bout your wrists froze up ni***
You might see 30 whips roll up ni***
We be at the pawn shop givin your Rol' up ni***
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
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
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)
[Joe Budden]
'Til my day's up ni***, stay up ni***
Play Tony Montana, get your face cut ni***
That goes out to all of you play thug niggaz
How you want it, long nose or the trey snub ni***?
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 ni***, say what ni***?
Your Maybelline raps that you make-up ni***
Wake up ni***, stakes up ni***
For all my locked-down and my cased-up niggaz, cause
[Chorus]
[Joe Budden]
Who's that ni***? New cat ni***
Don't disrespect, don't do that ni***
Hate to hear the sound of the tool clap ni***
Dual strap ni*** 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 ni***, G's up ni***
You lookin for a loan on your re-up ni***
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
[Chorus] - fades out