Offshore

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]

They say the tongue is the perfect weapon

All I hang around nowadays is verse perfection

I knew these three niggas for years but when they each get in that booth they make a first impression

Time and time again I just want them to rhyme again on some fan shit

I used to rock Boom in the hoopty on the Van Wyck with my man Vic, rest his soul

Before I had a clue what Joe was like

I used to cop Clues just to hear what Joe would write

Novel Used to tell me, me and Crooked sounded so alike

An '07 XXL shoot, he came over like "I'm Crook", I'm like "Oh, hi"

Pleasure to meet you brother

Seven years later I'm like wow I met my brother on the freshmen cover

We saw the world together

Back of that bus fucking girls together

Got home and broke up with our girls together

Homie this is special

Y'all rescued me from special forces back home forced to wear a 38 special

Cause none of 'em jam ya'

Summer jam was cool but we hung in Japan

I dont think y'all niggas truly understand

I used to think my only way out of the hood was through the number man

Get drunk and pop shit about running the can

Damn a whole lot to look forward to

Papi I was going through

What any other thorough nigga in my hood was going through

The G Code I know it's true

You throw at every one of them niggas before they throw at you

Back then I thought that made me real

Listening to myself now that shit just gave me chills man

Cause I'd have missed this bus

I mean this private jet no middle seat cause it's just us shiit'

All of this cause I can spit?

It's crazy how this get when you can say that shit

For the haters being a bitch like he ain't making no grip

I just bought my lady a whip without a radio hit, bitch

I'd rather talk to you niggas

Cause really it could be on the way I'm offin' you niggas feel me

So lets just leave it at that

Cause if I decide to crumble paper it ain't to rewrite raps

I got shooters on retainers that would bring me your medulla in containers

Please be on your cool behavior homey

And let's just leave it at that

I know I said that shit before

But I'm trying to save y'all from a war

[Interlude: Crooked I]

Yeah you know how you got a Godmother

I got a God grandmother

Attie May Johnson man I just got the phone call tonight that she-

She passed away man, know what I'm saying

She went to the other side

Attie May I still got that Brut cologne you bought for me for my birthday

I love you let me holler

[Verse 2: Crooked I]

I was opening up a can of spam putting ketchup on fake meat

Still thankful though cause so many hungry nights I ate sleep

Talking to my cousin before I dropped him off in Grape Street

He said, "Crook who we gotta kill to get you a Dre beat?

Cause I don't wanna' see you on this ratchet shit these niggas is on

And how come niggas don't pick up the phone for you to get on a song?"

I said, "probably cause I'ma pick 'em apart as soon as I get in the zone"

And I definitely didn't condone dick riding so I did it alone

Industry don't want a real nigga to creep in, fuck it, I'ma sneak in

And fuck going back to that book store I used to sleep in

My homie let me stay on Saturday and Sunday, I used to be homeless like The Weeknd

Same three outfits switching them shits till the week ends

Drowning in my sorrows drinking till I'm sinking in the deep end

Made myself a promise I'ma be the one in the end

With these rehabilitation bars I'ma clean 'em up with the pen

Then my problems gonna be over and solved

They finally let me in the damn door now I hope it revolves

Let me out of this mother fucker too many corny ass bitch ass

Kiss ass punk ass buster ass fuck ass niggas

Faggots playing hide the salami

This is a snake business my nigga and I ain't the swami n'aw

This is Crooked remember I rap circles around your favorite MC

While calling George Zimmerman a bitch on cable tv

In a racially profiled hoodie using BETs cypher just to push my agenda

I'm Dominick Wickliffe, I'm James' son

Even though he wore a condom I busted through it I can't forget where I came from

I keep hearing that there's real niggas in the game alright name some

All I know is rap's a circus

You're reaching again, y'all bleaching your skin, y'all bastards searching

For plastic surgeons to make sure that all of your facial features are thin

You're turning Hip-hop to pop you maggots singing again

Just snap your finger and spin

What the fuck you rapping for?

And motherfuck a Grammy, just hand them bitches to Macklemore

I don't need you to tell me that I'm more gifted then a Capricorn

Born before Christmas get it?

Y'all on some nonsense

And I'm the type to laugh soon as I hear about Donald Sterling's bitch choking on Magic's Johnson

[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]

(Let me get 'em Crook)

I'm cool, calm, collective, smooth

I come from using coupons with a true mom with infectious views

Number one with you honour and respect the rules

I'm five feet nine inches tall but boy when I'm standing next to dudes

It's like I'm standing on a stepping stool

'Cept when I'm standing with the wrecking crew

We can turn the tables if we could just make these records move

I know I know it's easier said then done but until the day that I'm done and dead

I'll be remembered by more shit being done then said

Listening to rap you gon' hear lies told

But not from me and not on this this one goes out to every bloggin' columnist around the globe

I want my rhyme flow solidified in time so

I gotta get on my grind bro

I'm thankful for the success that I have with Em' but honestly he could've sold more records than that on his own in a blind fold

And all I'm picturing is my daddy with his arms folded

And looking at me with that look like that's cool but get your own

Confidence breeds success when it's spoke on

Then Patron comes into play then it's postponed

For whatever reason Shady Records still believes in us

And whatever they see in us Interscope don't

Comments being made like "Niggas old and they pathetic"

Now how many times have we proved niggas wrong?

And how many niggas you think gon' come out of them offices

And try to show up when we blow up?

Some are gon' even try to take the credit

While we was doing the album the J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League manager was like

"Them niggas album ain't never coming out, them niggas don't even like each other"

Well fuck the J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League manager

I would tell you to tell him I said it but talk behind backs is for amateurs

Bitches, fake niggas, and punks

I don't know it all I just know how to ball and go out and get eight figures in chunks

I'm a fucking warrior I'm a true survivor of having death at your door step, drama in your foyer

That's probably why I looked at that bottle like that's euphoria

When you an addict nobody gotta ask if you wanna' drink that habit will actually ask it for ya'

And that'll destroy ya'

Take it from a G, they call me a soul survivor

Cause my soul done floated on to the crossroads for change more than toll for drivers

I made my oldest a promise

To keep my balls off the net and stay devoted to his Mama

[Verse 4: Joe Budden]

(Let me get 'em Nickle)

Tell me what if this is big as I'm supposed to be

I'd hate for that to get confirmed don't take the hope from me

Cause that's a deep threat

I mean I'd like to think that I ain't take a peek at my peak yet I got my feet wet

In '98 they said I was close to my death bed

Embalming fluid on my cig' it was a meth head

Was hard back then, ain't have a car back then

Still in on Mase had me wishing I had T.V's in the head rest

B.I.G.'s "Suicidal Thoughts" was getting him through

Would've took my life had I'd have known who I was giving in to

Mama screaming listen to rules if you gon live in this roof

In retrospect hidden jewel it helped me get in this booth

Now my notoriety trumping how incognito I try to be

Even make my bitches keep it low they on their Nya Lee

I don't trust none of these hoes

Sad part is I'm such a tortured soul I had that thought when I proposed

Suited up ring in my hand while in my head I'm saying fuck this bitch

Makes sense that she was thinking even less of me

Got ruined in my youth when the first one got the best of me

When she said she'd never leave then she left fuck y'all expect of me

That resentment only had me fucking different bitches different weeks

But most of them was bad that made it bitter sweet

Those are growing pains call it paying dues

She killed a nigga then birthed one all with the same move

We could hit the hookah spot and do a dinner

But thanks to my baby mother I'll bust anywhere but in her

Cause a baby for her is just a problem I'll be stuck with

Like what gives so n'aw I ain't arrogant but my nut is

I'm scarred happened years ago I'm still effected

If she suck and a swallow then she'll get high it's pill infested

500 proof laced with addict deficiencies

But accent in my son another owed to inconsistency

Ugh' looking at all my life's typos

Just trying to remove the fat provide the lipo'

Two words for my enemies: die slow

Full-time pyros', we do this with our eyes closed

[Outro: Joe Budden]

Word up man one more time for the half wits and the simpletons

It go two words for my enemies die slow

Full time fuck it word

La slaughter, La Familia

Ya' know what I mean

No matter what we ride, so lets ride