About This Track
"Warfare" is a track by Joe Budden, from the album Mood Muzik 3: For Better Or For Worse, released 15th December 2007. Full lyrics are available below.
About the Artist
Lyrics
[Intro: Joell Ortiz] Yaowa, yaowa It's J. O. (Joell Ortiz) It's J. O. (Jump Off) [Verse 1: Joe Budden] You now hearin' Hip-hop at its finest, I'm just Criminal minded, the Ed Hardy with the fine fit (Oh) Track just started, no need to rewind it [Verse 2: Joell Ortiz] Me, I'm bringin' fresh air back, I'm rap's heimlich Got 'em all sick is that vomit? Ew, you nasty (Ha) Man, I'll smack your skin if you feel you passed me [Verse 3: Joe Budden] It's like we lions against Lassies Niggas ain't nice, they lyin', the flow ass cheek I'm on the beat like Contra, pow! Steamroll over shit, I'm in a Tonka now This ain't about radio, see, I'm beyond the dial But still strong arm a nigga, E. Honda style, ow [Verse 4: Joell Ortiz] The inserts on your album put my ganja out Y'all sweeter than the lip gloss on Rihanna mouth (Hehe) Y'all sleepin', in pajamas on your momma couch I'm freakin', in the Bahamas throwin' condoms out (Yaowa) [Verse 5: Joe Budden] Hold up, dawg These felons ain't predicate, sandcastle delicate Metal spittin' leave 'em on the field like Everett (Oh) I does my own stunts, like a Jackie Chan movie Mismatch, belt Prada but the pants Louie If you ain't fair to me, then your whole camp sushi Rockin' Iceberg when niggas didn't understand Snoopy Damn [?], these chain of command's ran through me You and your man uzi slow down like Brand Nubie Can't do me, cramped to me, like a man groupie If that's the number one pick, then he Sam Bowie And I hate to blow a homi' on your mans You ain't Kid Rock, can't box the Tommy witcha hands, ma'fucker (Uh) [Verse 6: Joell Ortiz] I was really in the lobby with the grams tryna take guap In the hallway, all day is or it ain't hot Listenin' to Hot 9 like, "What do they got That I don't? With a blindfold, I see everyone they say's hot It's too easy, I'm feelin' like I'm a cheater (Why?) The flow heavy; your's light like a slice of pita (Haha) When moms was pregnant she was lightin' reefer That's why I'm nice, in the middle of Alaska, I'll write a heater I'm just cool and rough, hoody matchin' my Adidas Pants with the permanent wrinkles like I am iron either (Uh) I will make every last one of you guys believers Dudes is all lost, that's my word, I'm playin' timer's keeper [Verse 7: Joe Budden] Treat me like a big brother, slash fifth tucker Let the cig snuff you, you a kid, fuck ya Cocked AK, Mayday, listenin' to "Dre Day" Camcord me diggin' 'em out somethin' like Ray J They like Steve Irwin up against the stingray Heat up like Jean Gray, when somethin' with the beans spray (Uh) [Verse 8: Joell Ortiz] Take a sip of E&J, then a little puff or two Get some butt, then kick out the slut, you's a bugaboo (Haha) Weak dressers in the ring with Mr. Wonderful Paul Orndorff, man, y'all all soft and huggable (Woo) They're dealin' with a pro here that don't care Y'all stiff and worn out like a closet with old gear And I ain't goin' nowhere, producers know I'm the best thing Over those snares, what you speak is wack (Oh) Ortiz, I overdose like the needle's packed (Come on) I [?] I give the speakers dap [Verse 9: Joe Budden] Hold up, Joell The ether's back, see, I'm rap's Larry Johnson Redid my contract, now the chief is back So blame it on fatigue, have you like Greg Oden Injured before your first game in the league I'm spendin' old faces, niggas took my style Gotta steal my own shit back like O.J. did Might size you and your spouse, have guys go in your house With ridges on the nose of the rifle like Alf! Blaow
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