Luyện nghe bài hát Truth Or Truth

I'm out so much I'm like, "Why stress it?"
Am I selfish for myself
"Would you rather money or count blessings?"
Now that's a question
Fame my life upside down
I guess it was meant to be like passing Beyonce a
And that ain't a diss, this way more to me a diss track
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
to all the crazy bitches I've been involved with
Thank y'all for making my a crazier bitch than y'all bitches
Y'all might've lost me, but win
And this will be the realest I ever wrote
Now let's talk about the BET
When Kanye to the podium for the win
And everyone in the same category as him but me and Em
He they motivated him
And normally that would be to hate on him
But that ain't my M.O! My M.O. is to be mo'
This new-wave is so cultivatin'!
Where the do I fit in?
And this will be the realest shit I ever
I succumb so much to this game I feel
I answer more questions the 40 and Game squabble
Than I answer questions I ask myself
"Are you a father?", the answer's, "Well
Fuck this! got a game tomorrow"
I ain't gotta spell out the
If famous means speaking to people in offices
Over being there for your and daughters...
I'm off this...
I the last couple of lines kinda fell 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?
that! If I got to answer questions from you
You got to questions from me!
I'm fucking my whole life up for you, answer question:
"What the fuck are you for me?", answer that!
Still I my fans, even though y'all looking at me like I'm just a drunk nigga
just throwing up behind shit, blowing up, but nigga I ain't throwing up shit but my hands
And this is me growing up
Courtney Artesia, Kino and Vish, please support me I ya
But in reality an artist is to be supported by easels
But in the meanwhile, I'm just supported by
[Verse 2: Joe
I'm no fuckin' amused
I mean I addressed this on "Cut You Loose"
How long am I supposed to stick around for this fuckin'
time I go to leave, I figure "fuck is the use?"
I endure it for the true that covet that new
Or is just another fuckin' excuse?
Do I do it for attention cause I crave it, I mention it, I'll save it
If you know me than you know a treasure anonymity
Nigga thought as a man, you must 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 a nigga while he at his place of worship
And that came along with your 20 dollar purchase
You bought the music, not the nigga that it
But let me up on that nigga that made it
If you're judging me on actions then I'll take that L time
If you "Joe Budden is a corny mah'fucker"
Cause all it mean if I'm a mah'fucker
Is the rapper ever's just a corny mah'fucker
My bad, I'm not as as you
But all this I was being me, not being you
I get that mic, let all my demons through
knowing shit about the people that I'm speaking to
Add that to me not a reason to
And says a lot in a room full of silence, listen...
At 21 I had a problem
At 31 still drugs is a
But the thing about that pill is it made everything
And I I needed to see
Funny thing about it all, I like what I saw
Now the Lord's voice is in my like
"You'll be DEAD for questioning me"
Another for me
Far than whatever I profess it to be
if left to me, I'd put our eyes in our brains
We'd over-think we see and our whole lives would change
But it, that day had to come
Who knew that I would have a son?
I coulda guessed it, I was fuckin' like a
But I saw him handle scoliosis like his dad did
knew me and Ronnie would talk again
Fuck a rhyme, I'm just that we talk again
Who that the second I acknowledged you
You get terminally ill, be in the hospital
The thought of you is what fucks with me
I'm scared to death of getting custody
Nigga, I look in the disgustedly
So how am I supposed to feel the day he looks up to me?
I always said you were the worst
I had ex-girl with baby-mother
And lies my problem with our Creator
All the times I her black ass dead, you wouldn't take her
Don't do it now, I her
Understand, it get no realer
See how I go to bed with thoughts of a damn
But rather show y'all my girl through these Instagram
Look at her, don't at me
Cause if y'all judging, y'all throw the book at me
Speakin' of shorty, nah, I'll do in private
It might be a little soon for me to let her how I get
Shit, and now we back at one
quick, let me get back to my son
When a nigga was
He said "Dad, I'm weird but I don't a problem with that"
And I was like I laughed, and I was
"Well, number 1, why do you think weird
And 2, why don't you have a problem with that?"
And he me in my eyes and he was like
"Well, I say I'm weird, number 1, I know I'm weird
And I don't have a problem with it that's me
And whoever don't it, they don't have to be around me
I'm comfortable me and who I am"
And there, that was cold
In my head I "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... better that...
I could die right now and feel like he all he need to know

Royce, up
Last night we cried of joy
This they were still there
handicap without the wheelchair
That's we are, but fuck it...
We'll be the lamb for y'all niggas
Hate it or it...
Leave all of that, b, it...
3: Crooked I]
Yeah, man
I kinda feel where my nigga was from, you know
Both my niggas, you
was on WorldStar and shit
You know, 'bout I don't take care of my junior
Me and my straight though
Yo, my nigga rap
I just let it be, you know, cause people get their feelings hurt over shit
So I just let it go, you know, I ain't no rebuttal
But uh when you up fucked up
perfect, you know, but I'm perfect for this
This rap shit, man
Eastside Long Beach: avenue and Hill
Crooked was a youngster my ghetto attitude was
in the waist in case I had to shoot to kill
Rocking dumb mics I had was stupid skill
we cypher about a bus bitch
Some sippin vodka, others had the blunt pitched
A lot of them died, sweatshirt blood drenched
Others to jail, they hit a lick and left thumbprints
Long beach I salute ya
Even though you you I sold out you not saluting mine
I come around much, Im on musics time
Lost and found I found Im broke I lose my mind
So I like Im on a hunger strike
Without a doubt when I a mic
I a body count like the shottys out
Cause Im from a group called
Rap than everybody house
Now they think Im in the and stuntin
But Im an orgasm man, I came from nothing
Some of you the burbs but you claim you wasnt
So lame you struttin, with a you frontin
Fuck all that, if I was born rich I would rhyme it
I was born poor in a ditch, Im rhyming climb up out it
Tryna avoid a of crime Im bout it
say Ill be fine without it
Death around the corner, prison down my neck
Chasing til a nigga wheezing out of breath
IRS wanna me, I ain't even outta debt
they Young Buck me
, squeeze me outta checks
Yeah, them fools tryna squeeze me outta
Dont talk to dominics unless you pay ya rent
With marijuana sent outta town, them spent
My own fam wanna the steel and harm me
But I got the nuts to an army
Word to Killa army, man all them 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 many secrets I only told to a glass of
Half of my fathers family died of alone
He called me sick, I didnt the phone
How does it feel to know that your son care
Cause you wasnt there, life wasnt
I at steps in the wrong direction, another stare
I swear, just the other night dawg
Like niggas, niggas in front of my studio on my kids life
Nahmean, I ran through the fucking studio to my grabbed that 3.57 thang man
Came out waving, Im bout to bust, the pass by
My little told me I needed to chill
Nahmean, this is I do man, this is the life I live for real dawg
This ain't no rap music
Just the other night I killed a nigga man
Nahmean, I wouldnt be here rapping about this
about it man
[Verse 4: Joell
My grandmoms me
, father exist
Baby stress me,
my momma got a
My older son love football and the little nigga is mean
But he chronic asthmatic so he fully suited on the wishing he could be in there but still
Cheering for his
My youngest son got nerve issues, he cry to me
Im at him like its not you fault
You was conceived when daddy was such a slave to his everyday
I worked at UPS for a and my boss ain't have to fire me
I wasnt fit to boxes I quit
put me in that box when I spit
My life too muthafucking fly for me
Wasnt too fly for me
From the lobby huffing and puffing running robbery
To Crooked I, Da 59, Joe Budden,
from the Goodie Mob and me carving artistry
Celebrating escaping
Ashy knees and no
outta hocks but that was on the first, other than that
Liver works and government sent me my cheese in a box
Yall ain't have that cheese in a box
night I cried tears of joy
But the other I cried tears my boy
No here I cant hear his voice
I guess upstairs they dealers choice
Popped a pill with Joe Im sippin clear Royce
Crook a cigar nigga
My homie just hit the pen
Went in a young adult and out a senior citizen
And crackers just denied me
Fuck dawg I cant even sneak a in
I ain't hustlin no more if listening
Yall only get the music man
don't know what be going on with a nigga day to day
I mean I ain't complaining or nothing
Like a 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 left my condo, hopped up in my car Im on my way to an actress
I dont need yall to remind me bout my pen and pad
ad-libs subtract your spit
Multiply my visits to Chase mad chips among 3 other niggas
Nah nigga ain't no rap clique
This is a muthafucking
I want another Range
I got a hangover celebrating the fact my mother became sober
My uncle from that needle though
Found out he fully a couple weeks ago
My tested negative 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 ain't
Not a nominee for or Oscars for my uh balony
you see is what you get
Hope you getting you see cause what you seeing is a threat
Come at me with indirects, I ain't gon write a about you
Imma you in your neck
And then write a song about how I just beat you to death
Dont 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 with my money
Anything else I say will be dry snitching on myself, how dumb would be
gang
YAOWA!