Luyện nghe bài hát Truth Or Truth

I'm stressed out so much I'm like, "Why it?"
Am I selfish for asking
"Would you rather count money or blessings?"
Now that's a question
Fame my life upside down
I it was meant to be like passing Beyonce a Tic-Tac
And that ain't a diss, this way more to me than a diss
is God to me
Nas is God to me!
Eminem is B.I.G. and Pac to me
And if you disagree I you bleed hypocrisy!
And this will be the realest I ever wrote
Shoutout to all the crazy bitches I've involved with
Thank y'all for making my wife a crazier bitch than bitches
Y'all might've lost me, but win
And this will be the shit I ever wrote
Now let's about the BET Awards
When Kanye to the podium for the win
And mentioned in the same category as him but me and Em
He said they him
And that would be ammo to hate on him
But that ain't my M.O! My M.O. is to be mo'
This culture is so cultivatin'!
the fuck do I fit in?
And this will be the realest shit I wrote
I succumb so much to this I feel sorrow
I answer more about the 40 and Game squabble
Than I questions that I ask myself
"Are you a father?", the answer's, "Well
Fuck this! Royce got a tomorrow"
I ain't spell out the offers
If being famous speaking to people in offices
Over being for your sons and daughters...
I'm off this...
I know the last couple of lines kinda out of the pocket
But I give a fuck!
Let me you this:
was the last time you copped some shit
Where it actually came out of pocket?
Answer that! If I got to answer from you
You got to questions from me!
I'm fucking my whole life up for you, answer this
"What the fuck are you for me?", answer that!
Still I love my fans, even though y'all looking at me like I'm a drunk nigga
That's just throwing up behind shit, blowing up, but nigga I throwing up shit but my hands
And this is just me up
Artesia, Kino and Vish, please support me I need ya
But in reality an artist is supposed to be supported by
But in the meanwhile, I'm just supported by
2: Joe Budden]
I'm no longer fuckin'
I mean I this shit on "Cut You Loose"
How long am I supposed to stick around for fuckin' abuse?
Every I go to leave, I figure "fuck is the use?"
I endure it for the true fans that covet new
Or is that just another fuckin'
Do I do it for attention I crave it, I won't mention it, I'll save it
If you me than you know a nigga treasure anonymity
Nigga thought that as a man, you be kiddin' me
And I'm starting to feel like my are now condemning me
Listen, I owe y'all shit
Same Joe I am today is the Joe y'all get
Y'all will interrupt a nigga while he at his place of
And think that came along with your 20 purchase
You the music, not the nigga that made it
But let me touch up on that nigga that it
If judging me on actions then I'll take that L every time
If you conclude "Joe Budden is a mah'fucker"
Cause all it if I'm a corny mah'fucker
Is the greatest rapper ever's just a mah'fucker
My bad, I'm not as as you
But all time I was being me, not being you
I get that mic, let all my demons through
Without knowing about the people that I'm speaking to
Add that to me not a reason to
And that says a lot in a room of silence, listen...
At 21 I had a problem
At 31 still is a problem
But the thing about that pill is it everything real
And I I needed to see
Funny thing about it all, I ain't like I saw
Now the Lord's voice is in my like
"You'll be soon for questioning me"
Another for me
Far greater than I profess it to be
Cause if left to me, I'd put our eyes in our
We'd over-think what we see and our whole lives would
But it, that day had to come
Who ever knew that I would a son?
I coulda guessed it, I was fuckin' like a
But I never saw him handle scoliosis his dad did
Never knew me and Ronnie would talk
Fuck a rhyme, I'm just happy that we talk
Who knew that the second I you
You would get ill, be in the hospital
The of you leaving is what fucks with me
I'm scared to death of full custody
Nigga, I look in the mirror
So how am I supposed to the day that he looks up to me?
I said you were the worst baby-mother
I had ex-girl confused with
And there lies my with our Creator
All the times I wanted her black ass dead, you wouldn't her
do it now, I need her
Understand, it get no realer
See how I go to bed with thoughts of a killer
But rather show y'all my girl these Instagram filters
Look at her, look at me
Cause if y'all judging, would throw the book at me
Speakin' of shorty, nah, I'll do in private
It might be a soon for me to let her know how I get
Shit, and now we back at one
quick, let me get back to my son
When a was like
He said "Dad, I'm weird but I don't a problem with that"
And I was I laughed, and I was like
"Well, number 1, why do you you're weird
And number 2, why don't you a problem with that?"
And he me in my eyes and he was like
"Well, I say I'm weird, number 1, because I I'm weird
And I have a problem with it because that's me
And whoever don't like it, they have to be around me
I'm with me and who I am"
And there, that was cold
In my I thought "That was bold"
Illest shit about it all, said that at 10
So I die right now
I could die now and feel like he got the most important part of Joe
Or... than that...
I could die now and feel like he know all he need to know

Royce, up
Last night we tears of joy
This morning they were there
What's handicap the wheelchair
That's what we are, but it...
We'll be the sacrificial for y'all niggas
Hate it or it...
Leave all of that, b, it...
[Verse 3: I]
Yeah, man
I kinda feel my nigga was coming from, you know
my niggas, you know
Baby-mom was on and shit
You know, talkin' 'bout I take care of my junior
Me and my nigga though
Yo, my nigga rap
I just let it be, you know, cause people get feelings hurt over other shit
So I just let it go, you know, I ain't no rebuttal
But uh you grew up fucked up
Nobody's perfect, you know, but I'm perfect for
This rap shit, man
Long Beach: Atlantic avenue and Hill
Crooked was a youngster my attitude was real
in the waist in case I had to shoot to kill
Rocking dumb mics cause I had was skill
Eastsiders we cypher about a bus
Some sippin toca vodka, had the blunt pitched
A lot of them niggas died, sweatshirt blood
Others went to jail, they hit a and left thumbprints
Long I salute ya grind
Even though you think you I out you not saluting mine
I dont come much, Im on musics time
Lost and found I found when Im I lose my mind
So I hustle like Im on a hunger
a doubt when I cuff a mic
I leave a count like the shottys out
Cause Im from a group slaughter
Rap better than house
Now they Im in the game and stuntin
But Im like an orgasm man, I came from
Some of you from the burbs but you claim you
So lame you struttin, with a you frontin
Fuck all that, if I was born rich I would about it
I was born poor in a ditch, Im tryna climb up out it
Tryna avoid a life of Im bout it
Some say Ill be fine it
around the corner, prison breathing down my neck
Chasing til a nigga wheezing out of breath
IRS wanna fuck me, I ain't even outta
Said they Buck me
, squeeze me outta checks
Yeah, them tryna squeeze me outta checks
talk to dominics unless you pay ya mommas rent
With marijuana sent outta town, dollars spent
My own fam grab the steel and harm me
But I got the nuts to kill an
Word to army, man all them killers adore me
BET red carpet, the was on me
To put a slug in my flesh and blood wouldnt good
crip walking at the Olympics
Im hood
Still me, til my candle is
So secrets I only told to a glass of patron
Half of my fathers family of cancer alone
He me sick, I didnt answer the phone
How does it feel to know that son doesnt care
you wasnt there, life wasnt fair
I look at steps in the wrong direction, stare
I swear, just the muthafucking night dawg
Like niggas, niggas rolled in front of my on my kids life
Nahmean, I ran the fucking studio to my office grabbed that 3.57 thang man
Came out waving, Im to bust, the police pass by
My brothers told me I needed to chill
Nahmean, this is what I do man, this is the I live for real dawg
This no muthafuckin rap music
Just the other night I coulda a nigga man
Nahmean, I wouldnt be here rapping about this
about it man
[Verse 4: Ortiz]
My left me
, father dont
moms stress me,
my got a cyst
My older son love football and the little nigga hands is
But he chronic asthmatic so he fully on the sideline wishing he could be in there but still
Cheering for his
My youngest son got issues, sometimes he cry to me
Im at him like its not you fault
You was conceived when was such a slave to his everyday anxiety
I worked at UPS for a week and my ain't have to fire me
I wasnt fit to boxes I quit
Dont put me in that box when I
My life too muthafucking fly for me
too muthafucking fly for me
From the lobby huffing and running from robbery
To Crooked I, Da 59, Joe Budden,
homie from the Goodie Mob and me carving
Celebrating escaping
Ashy and no socks
Chinese outta but that was on the first, other than that
Liver works and government me my yellow cheese in a box
Yall ain't have that yellow in a box
Last I cried tears of joy
But the other night I cried my boy
No here I cant hear his voice
I guess upstairs they dealers choice
Popped a pill Joe Im sippin clear with Royce
Crook light a cigar
My little just hit the pen
Went in a young adult and coming out a citizen
And them crackers denied me
dawg I cant even sneak a visit in
I ain't hustlin no if yall listening
Yall only get the music man
Yall don't know what be on with a nigga day to day
I shit I ain't complaining or nothing
a nigga stand on his own two and hold it down
But its realer you think nigga
You think I give a about a rap list
I just my condo, hopped up in my car Im on my way to fuck an actress
I dont need to remind me bout my pen and pad gift
ad-libs subtract your wack
Multiply my visits to Chase divide mad chips among 3 other
Nah nigga this ain't no rap
This is a muthafucking
I another Range Rover
I got such a hangover celebrating the my mother became sober
My uncle fading from that though
Found out he fully blown a couple ago
My aunt tested but its the same result
Cuz she gon die on the day he stop breathing yo
To know me to love me
Nah, to me is to know me
Cause you ain't got to like me but respect that I phony
Not a nominee for Tonys or for my uh balony
What you see is you get
Hope you what you see cause what you seeing is a threat
Come at me indirects, I ain't gon write a song about you
Imma knee you in your
And then write a song how I just beat you half to death
play with my little niggas
Im just a grown ass man tryna my family through the talent God gave me
Honestly I care if you hate me
But dont fuck with my
Anything else I say be dry snitching on myself, how dumb would that be
House
YAOWA!