[Verse 1: Joe Budden]

Only for so long you can keep me quiet

Flew a model broad in so you know I'm knee deep at the Hyatt

But careful see she be a riot

And she known to stab niggas like Keke Wyatt

Fuck rap, look what they leave me to ride wit

Joints that sound like feces compared to my shit

Pen game down they can't survive wit

Geico bars, a caveman could write it

Suprised they don't tote them things man

I got some AK's longer than Greg Oden's wingspan

Some of these slugs is for wanna be thugs

They soft, bitch made call em Summer's Eve Thugs

Son I'm that nigga, guns blast quicker

When dopeboyz is short I front em the cash nigga

I talk about birds cause my hun ass bigger

You in the pursuit of happiness, bum ass nigga

Got beef wit locals ain't been too vocal

To me it's jus a waste of protools

Me versus them is like Dolph Lundgren wit his hand crammed on Apollo

They get the sandman at the Apollo

Welcome to doomsday I'm Kobe in the clutch

Tiger wit the club, Van Damme at the kumite

Roll wit invisible men, but ya'll know

Keep them E-40's on him, I jus tell em when 2 go

I ain't the best that done it, jus a wreckless young kid

Wit Big L's wit & some Lord Finesse punches

My deep joints like a mirage of Pac's shit

Eminem insanity, wit Nas' knowledge

But nah, he ain't emo he more like a rap hero

Trapped like Nicholas Cage at Ground Zero

They don't like Jerz they wanna see J done

And they only lovin' New York on VH1

I can't front I'm terrified an era died

And if I made an error and its alive

Then it should probably be sterilized

I'm hella live, jus not on ya screen

They told me the Revolution will not be televised

And the fans sayin Joe you the truth

Mixtapes the glass ceiling and I broke through the roof

I'm more of a hood star

I never been this nigga to put out 20 tapes

Wit jus 4 good bars

You feelin loco lil deranged in the head

Be lookin like Ghost Rider when them flames to ya head

The hood sayin Joe don't pop in

They jus wanna street fight I'd rather stretch money like Dhalsim

Chillin on the Caman's, shot to the ceiling from the pavement

Whats wit all the grilling and the hatin'

When you get your 1st piece of jewelry

You'll probably understand why I'm walkin round feeling like Peyton

Got my seat back in that suburban reppin'

Since the album's becoming like an urban legend

But indeed its gon' help, I'm the only thing that keep gettin better

The longer you leave it on the shelf, uh huh, slight fever

Some different type heaters that's designed to hit every body part like Lever

And ya mans ain't gon have no time to warn you

Aside from that hoodie it ain't no 9's on you

And crime here's normal, wit rimmed up cars

Rugers & gem stars jus study the memoirs

You want it wit a con come see me

Shotguns'll be comin out the closet like John Amechi

They thought he wouldn't make that baretta go off

Cause his shoes Gucci, & his leather so soft

I know what you rookies about like Britney Spears

When I see you guaranteed pussy is out, ya heard?

You can't look for me locally, try Vegas

You need a plane ticket though you can't ride Avis

Hi Haters!, I'm sorry for the hiatus

You know I stay up in pussy like vibrators

Ya money that short homeslice why wage it

Don't bet check the bookie I'm a high favorite

Them beams out have that light set dead for him

& fuck hoes I'm too Right Said Fred for em

The goons by me I hand em the fo' fifth

You runnin like they ain't got the stamina to go wit

Them hammers unload quick, my new shit is

Home invasion find your wifey like Anna Nicole Smith

Nigga don't move less the cal is on you wait

Oh you mad cuz I'm stylin' on you

Play wolf til them real ones howlin' on you

Have every north Jersey hood piling on you

It's Jump Off for niggas that don't know me

A New Jerz Giant bought a crib next to Osi

Slow leak, know he known to keep biscuits

On your block,windows down it's me bitches