Luyện nghe bài hát Truth Or Truth

I'm stressed out so I'm like, "Why stress it?"
Am I selfish for myself
"Would you rather count money or blessings?"
Now that's a wild
Fame turned my life down
I guess it was meant to be like Beyonce a Tic-Tac
And that a diss, this way more to me than 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 hope you hypocrisy!
And this will be the realest I ever wrote
Shoutout to all the crazy bitches I've involved with
y'all for making my wife a crazier bitch than y'all bitches
Y'all lost me, but y'all win
And this will be the realest I ever wrote
Now let's talk the BET Awards
When went to the podium for the win
And mentioned everyone in the category as him but me and Em
He they motivated him
And that would be ammo to hate on him
But ain't my M.O! My M.O. is to be mo' motivatin'
This culture is so cultivatin'!
the fuck do I fit in?
And will be the realest shit I ever wrote
I so much to this game I feel sorrow
I answer more about the 40 and Game squabble
I answer questions that I ask myself
"Are you a father?", the answer's, "Well
this! Royce got a game tomorrow"
I ain't gotta spell out the
If famous means speaking to people in offices
Over there for your sons and daughters...
I'm off this...
I know the last couple of lines fell out of the pocket
But I give a fuck!
Let me tell you
When was the last time you copped some
Where it came out of your pocket?
Answer that! If I got to questions from you
You got to questions from me!
I'm fucking my whole up for you, answer this question:
"What the fuck are you for me?", answer that!
Still I love my fans, even 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 just me up
Courtney Artesia, Kino and Vish, please me I need ya
But in an artist is supposed to be supported by easels
But in the meanwhile, I'm supported by evil
2: Joe Budden]
I'm no longer amused
I I addressed this shit on "Cut You Loose"
How long am I supposed to stick around for this fuckin'
Every time I go to leave, I "fuck is the use?"
I it for the true fans that covet that new
Or is that just fuckin' excuse?
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 my fans are now condemning me
Listen, I don't owe 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 along with your 20 dollar purchase
You bought the music, not the nigga made it
But let me touch up on that nigga made it
If you're judging me on actions then I'll take L every time
If you conclude "Joe is a corny mah'fucker"
Cause all it mean if I'm a corny
Is the greatest rapper ever's a corny mah'fucker
My bad, I'm not as as you
But all this time I was being me, not you
I get behind that mic, let all my through
Without knowing shit about the people I'm speaking to
Add to me not seeing a reason to
And says a lot in a room full of silence, listen...
At 21 I had a drug
At 31 still is a problem
But the thing about that pill is it made everything
And I felt I to see
Funny thing about it all, I ain't like I saw
Now the Lord's is in my head like
"You'll be soon for questioning me"
Another for me
Far greater whatever 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 lives would change
But fuck it, that day had to
Who ever knew I would have a son?
I coulda guessed it, I was fuckin' a rabbit
But I saw him handle scoliosis like his dad did
Never knew me and would talk again
Fuck a rhyme, I'm just happy that we talk
Who knew that the second I you
You would get terminally ill, be in the
The thought of you leaving is what with me
I'm scared to death of full custody
Nigga, I look in the mirror
So how am I to feel the day that he looks up to me?
I said you were the worst baby-mother
I had ex-girl with baby-mother
And there lies my with our Creator
All the times I wanted her black ass dead, you wouldn't her
Don't do it now, I her
Understand, it get no realer
See how I go to bed with of a damn killer
But rather show y'all my through these Instagram filters
Look at her, don't at me
Cause if y'all judging, y'all throw the book at me
of shorty, nah, I'll do that 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 have a problem 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 have a problem that?"
And he looked me in my and he was like
"Well, I say I'm weird, 1, because I know I'm weird
And I don't have a problem with it that's me
And don't like it, they don't have to be around me
I'm with me and who I am"
And right there, that was
In my I thought "That was bold"
Illest shit about it all, said that at 10
So I could die now
I could die now and feel like he got the most important part of Joe
Or... than that...
I could die right now and feel like he know all he need to

Royce, up
Last night we cried of joy
This morning they still there
What's without the wheelchair
what we are, but fuck it...
We'll be the lamb for y'all niggas
Hate it or it...
all of that, b, fuck it...
[Verse 3: I]
Yeah, man
I feel where my nigga was coming from, you know
my niggas, you know
Baby-mom was on and shit
You know, talkin' 'bout I don't take of my junior
Me and my straight though
Yo, my little rap
I just let it be, you know, cause people get their feelings over other 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 attitude was real
Dumper in the waist in case I had to shoot to
Rocking mics cause I had was stupid skill
Eastsiders we cypher a bus bitch
Some sippin toca vodka, others had the pitched
A lot of them died, sweatshirt blood drenched
Others went to jail, they hit a lick and thumbprints
Long beach I ya grind
Even though you think you I out you not saluting mine
I dont come around much, Im on time
Lost and found I found when Im 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 a group called slaughter
Rap better everybody house
Now they think Im in the game and
But Im an orgasm man, I came from nothing
Some of you from the but you claim you wasnt
So lame you struttin, with a you frontin
Fuck all that, if I was rich I would rhyme about it
I was born poor in a ditch, Im tryna climb up out it
avoid a life of crime Im bout it
Some say Ill be fine it
Death the corner, prison breathing down my neck
Chasing til a nigga wheezing out of breath
IRS fuck me, I ain't even outta debt
Said they Young me
, squeeze me outta checks
Yeah, fools tryna squeeze me outta checks
Dont talk to dominics unless you pay ya rent
With marijuana outta town, them dollars spent
My own fam grab the steel and harm me
But I got the nuts to kill an
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 still
Still me, til my candle is
So many I only told to a glass of patron
of my fathers family died of cancer alone
He me sick, I didnt answer the phone
How does it to know that your son doesnt care
Cause you wasnt there, life fair
I look at steps in the wrong direction, stare
I swear, just the other muthafucking dawg
Like niggas, rolled in front of my studio on my kids life
Nahmean, I ran through the studio to my office grabbed that 3.57 thang man
Came out waving, Im bout to bust, the police by
My little told me I needed to chill
Nahmean, this is what I do man, this is the life I for real dawg
This no muthafuckin rap music
Just the night I coulda killed a nigga man
Nahmean, I wouldnt be here rapping this shit
Think it man
[Verse 4: Joell
My grandmoms me
, dont exist
Baby stress me,
my got a cyst
My older son love football and the little nigga is mean
But he chronic asthmatic so he fully suited on the sideline wishing he could be in there but
for his team
My youngest son got nerve issues, he cry to me
Im looking at him its not you fault
You was conceived when daddy was such a to his everyday anxiety
I worked at UPS for a and my boss ain't have to fire me
I fit to lift boxes I quit
Dont put me in that box I spit
My wasnt too muthafucking fly for me
Wasnt too fly for me
From the lobby and puffing running from robbery
To I, Royce Da 59, Joe Budden,
homie from the Goodie Mob and me carving
escaping poverty
Ashy knees and no
Chinese hocks but that was on the first, other than that
Liver and government sent me my yellow cheese in a box
Yall ain't that yellow cheese in a box
Last night I cried of joy
But the other night I cried my boy
No longer here I cant hear his
I guess they playing dealers choice
Popped a pill with Joe Im sippin clear Royce
Crook light a cigar
My little homie hit the pen
Went in a young adult and coming out a senior
And them crackers denied me
Fuck I cant even sneak a visit in
I ain't hustlin no more if listening
Yall niggas only get the man
Yall don't know be going on with a nigga day to day
I mean shit I ain't complaining or
a nigga stand on his own two and hold it down
But its than you think nigga
You I give a fuck about a rap list
I left my condo, hopped up in my car Im on my way to fuck an actress
I need yall to remind me bout my pen and pad gift
subtract your wack spit
Multiply my visits to Chase divide mad among 3 other niggas
Nah nigga ain't no rap clique
This is a muthafucking
I want Range Rover
I got such a hangover celebrating the my mother became sober
My uncle fading that needle though
Found out he fully a couple weeks ago
My aunt tested negative but its the result
Cuz she gon die on the same day he stop yo
To know me ain't to me
Nah, to know me is to me
Cause you ain't got to like me but that I ain't phony
Not a nominee for or Oscars for my uh balony
What you see is you get
you getting what you see cause what you seeing is a threat
Come at me with indirects, I ain't gon write a song you
Imma you in your neck
And then a song about how I just beat you half to death
Dont play my little niggas
Im just a grown ass man tryna feed my family the talent God gave me
Honestly I care if you hate me
But dont fuck my money
Anything else I say be dry snitching on myself, how dumb would that be
House
YAOWA!