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 money or count blessings?"
Now a wild question
Fame turned my life upside
I guess it was meant to be like passing a Tic-Tac
And that ain't a diss, this way more to me than a track
is God to me
Nas is God to me!
Eminem is B.I.G. and Pac to me
And if you I hope you bleed hypocrisy!
And this will be the realest shit I wrote
Shoutout to all the crazy bitches I've been involved
y'all for making my wife a crazier bitch than y'all bitches
Y'all might've me, but y'all win
And this will be the realest shit I ever
Now talk about the BET Awards
When went to the podium for the win
And mentioned in the same category as him but me and Em
He said motivated him
And normally that be ammo to hate on him
But that 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 questions about the 40 and Game
Than I answer questions that I ask
"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 there for your sons and daughters...
I'm off this...
I know the last of lines kinda fell out of the pocket
But I give a fuck!
Let me tell you
When was the last time you copped some
Where it actually out of your pocket?
Answer that! If I got to questions from you
You got to answer questions me!
I'm fucking my whole life up for you, answer this
"What the are you doing for me?", answer that!
Still I love my fans, even though y'all looking at me I'm just a drunk nigga
That's just throwing up shit, blowing up, but nigga I ain't throwing up shit but my hands
And is just me growing up
Artesia, Kino and Vish, please support me I need ya
But in reality an is supposed to be supported by easels
But in the meanwhile, I'm supported by evil
[Verse 2: Joe
I'm no longer amused
I mean I 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 just another fuckin' excuse?
Do I do it for attention cause I crave it, I won't it, I'll save it
If you know me than you a nigga treasure anonymity
Nigga that as a man, you must be kiddin' me
And I'm starting to feel my fans are now condemning me
Listen, I don't owe y'all
Joe I am today is the same Joe y'all get
Y'all will interrupt a nigga while he at his place of
And think that came along your 20 dollar purchase
You bought the music, not the nigga made it
But let me up on that nigga that made it
If you're judging me on actions then I'll take L every time
If you conclude "Joe Budden is a mah'fucker"
Cause all it mean if I'm a mah'fucker
Is the greatest rapper ever's a corny mah'fucker
My bad, I'm not as as you
But all this time I was me, not being you
I get behind that mic, let all my through
Without knowing shit about the people that I'm to
Add that to me not seeing a to
And that a lot in a room full of silence, listen...
At 21 I had a drug
At 31 drugs is a problem
But the thing about pill is it made everything real
And I felt I to see
thing about it all, I ain't like what I saw
Now the Lord's is in my head like
"You'll be DEAD for questioning me"
lesson 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 we see and our whole lives would change
But it, that day had to come
Who ever knew that I would have a
I coulda guessed it, I was fuckin' like a
But I saw him handle scoliosis like his dad did
Never knew me and Ronnie would talk
Fuck a rhyme, I'm just happy that we talk
Who knew the second I acknowledged you
You get terminally ill, be in the hospital
The thought of you leaving is what fucks me
I'm scared to death of getting full
Nigga, I look in the mirror
So how am I to feel the day that he looks up to me?
I always you were the worst baby-mother
I had ex-girl with baby-mother
And there my problem with our Creator
All the times I wanted her black ass dead, you take her
do it now, I need her
Understand, it get no realer
See how I go to bed with thoughts of a killer
But show y'all my girl through these Instagram filters
Look at her, look at me
Cause if judging, y'all would throw the book at me
Speakin' of shorty, nah, I'll do in private
It be a little soon for me to let her know how I get
Shit, and now we right at one
Real quick, let me get to my son
a nigga was like
He "Dad, I'm weird but I don't have 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 have a problem that?"
And he looked me in my eyes and he was
"Well, I say I'm weird, number 1, I know I'm weird
And I don't have a with it because that's me
And whoever don't like it, don't have to be around me
I'm comfortable me and who I am"
And right there, was cold
In my I thought "That was bold"
Illest shit it all, said that at 10 years-old
So I die right now
I could die right now and feel like he got the 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 were still there
What's handicap without the
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 where my nigga was coming from, you
Both my niggas, you
Baby-mom was on and shit
You know, talkin' 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 other
So I let it go, you know, I ain't have no rebuttal
But uh you grew up fucked up
perfect, you know, but I'm perfect for this
This rap shit, man
Eastside Long Beach: Atlantic avenue and
Crooked was a youngster my attitude was real
Dumper in the waist in case I had to to kill
Rocking mics cause I had was stupid skill
Eastsiders we cypher a bus bitch
Some toca vodka, others had the blunt pitched
A lot of them niggas died, sweatshirt blood
went to jail, they hit a lick and left thumbprints
Long I salute ya grind
Even you think you I sold out you not saluting mine
I dont come much, Im on musics time
Lost and found I found when Im broke I my mind
So I hustle like Im on a hunger
Without a when I cuff a mic
I leave a body count like the out
Cause Im a group called slaughter
Rap better everybody house
Now they think Im in the and stuntin
But Im an orgasm man, I came from nothing
Some of you from the burbs but you you wasnt
So you struttin, with a cain you frontin
all that, if I was born rich I would rhyme about it
I was born in a ditch, Im rhyming tryna climb up out it
avoid a life of crime Im bout it
Some say Ill be fine it
Death around the corner, prison breathing my neck
Chasing til a nigga wheezing out of breath
IRS wanna me, I ain't even outta debt
Said they Young me
, squeeze me outta checks
Yeah, them fools squeeze me outta checks
Dont talk to dominics unless you pay ya rent
With marijuana sent outta town, dollars spent
My own fam wanna grab the and harm me
But I got the nuts to an army
to Killa 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
Serena crip at the Olympics
Im still
Still me, til my candle is
So many secrets I only to a glass of patron
Half of my family died of cancer alone
He called me sick, I answer the phone
How it feel to know that your son doesnt care
Cause you wasnt there, life fair
I look at steps in the wrong direction, another
I swear, just the other muthafucking dawg
niggas, niggas rolled in front of my studio on my kids life
Nahmean, I ran the fucking studio to my office 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 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 about this shit
about it man
[Verse 4: Joell
My left me
, father dont
Baby stress me,
my got a cyst
My son love football and the little nigga hands is mean
But he chronic asthmatic so he fully suited on the sideline he could be in there but still
Cheering for his
My son got nerve issues, sometimes he cry to me
Im looking at him like its not you
You was conceived when daddy was such a to his everyday anxiety
I worked at UPS for a week and my boss ain't have to me
I fit to lift 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 from robbery
To I, Royce Da 59, Joe Budden,
homie from the Goodie Mob and me carving
Celebrating escaping
Ashy and no socks
Chinese outta hocks but that was on the first, other that
Liver works and government sent me my yellow in a box
Yall ain't that yellow cheese in a box
Last night I tears of joy
But the other night I cried my boy
No here I cant hear his voice
I guess they playing dealers choice
a pill with 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 crackers just denied me
Fuck dawg I cant even a visit in
I ain't hustlin no more if listening
Yall only get the music man
Yall don't know what be on with a nigga day to day
I mean shit I ain't or nothing
Like a nigga on his own two and hold it down
But its than you think nigga
You think I a fuck about a rap list
I just left my condo, hopped up in my car Im on my way to fuck an
I dont yall to remind me bout my pen and pad gift
ad-libs subtract your wack
Multiply my to Chase divide mad chips among 3 other niggas
Nah nigga this no rap clique
This is a takeover
I want another Range
I got such a celebrating the fact my mother became sober
My uncle fading that needle though
Found out he fully blown a couple ago
My aunt negative but its the same result
Cuz she gon die on the day he stop breathing yo
To me ain't to love me
Nah, to know me is to me
you ain't got to like me but respect that I ain't phony
Not a nominee for or Oscars for my uh balony
What you see is you get
Hope you getting you see cause what you seeing is a threat
Come at me with indirects, I gon write a song about you
Imma knee you in neck
And then write a about how I just beat you half to death
Dont with my little niggas
Im just a grown ass man tryna my family through the talent God gave me
I dont care if you hate me
But dont fuck with my
Anything else I say will be dry on myself, how dumb would that be
House
YAOWA!