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Permalink Reply by Omar-Always winningcharliesheen. on October 20, 2009 at 12:54am

OWWW! DOPE S*** RIGHT THERE..

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Permalink Reply by God's Poetic Son on October 19, 2009 at 11:23pm

"Thought Shawty was the truth, found out she was a cheater, we were supposed to takeover, I caught her bumping Ether!"

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Permalink Reply by The DNB on October 20, 2009 at 12:49am

50 bodied you i just laid the chalk down - banks

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Permalink Reply by Omar-Always winningcharliesheen. on October 20, 2009 at 12:52am

Lyrics to Are You In That Mood Yet :
[Joe Budden]

Yo, I don't wanna live no more
Sometimes I hear death knockin' at my front door
I'm livin everyday like a hustle, another drug to juggle
Another day another struggle, yo
I know it's f***** up what a lack of cake'll do
A few people wanna move in and stay wit you
You wish you could help 'em all, but you ain't able to
Cause the rent's a lil' late plus the cable's due
You and your girlfriend are beefin' in a serious way
You used to be faithful (NOW) you at a curious stage (for real)
Finally got your mind made on going your separate ways WAIT
Nah homeboy, her period's late now THINK
Your time's runnin out do it quickly (WHY?!)
Cause she starts crying, mood's gettin sticky
If I don't want it she'll want nuttin to do wit me
JUST GET THE ABORTION AND I'LL GIVE YOU THE 250!
But if you say that to her than you wrong
You ain't think bout that you was gettin your groove on
Can't take care of myself nevermind a new born
I guess the p**** got too good for too long
Seems like my money goes by too easy
Why I hate that my job only pays bi-weekly
Hoopty done s******, you spendin more money tryin to fix it
Than when you did tryin to get it (C'MON!)
Fridge is empty, but I survive the hunger
Who the f*** keeps callin from this private number?
There's crime on my mind and my nails are dirty
The floors are real cold in the jails of Jersey
Depression starts talkin and his voice is raspy
CAUSE HE AIN'T SHUT THE F*** UP IN 3 AND A HALF WEEKS!
Look, beard is full, hair is nappy
These jeans ain't mine so they way too baggy
Priorities f***** s*** startin to gas me
It's like my lil' man's life slipped right past me (talk to em)
Startin to trap me
His name's Dwayne SO WHY THE F*** MY SON KEEP CALLIN' HIM DADDY?!
Same s*** that I feared after all these years
I gotta breathe I can't believe my ears
Wipin out my eyes I'm damn near in tears
But you can't be mad, you know you ain't been there (nah)
Grab his moms I throw her against the door
But in the back of your mind you know it ain't her fault (nah)
I ain't mad at all, I'm just bothered
I get honest for real I ain't been the best father like
Toys 'R Us, Chuck E Cheese
You know a lil' boy grow up wit these needs
New Year's or Christmas, even the birthday
At least bring the n**** to his school on the first day (OHHHH)
I can't believe it, this the same way that I was treated
So maybe it's history repeated
I know it sounds sick the idea of havin another kid
But this one it really feel like it's his (OHHHH)
It's the truth and I hate that fact
WAIT, shouldn't of said that I take that back
Look, I apologize let's rewind this whole story like NaS
C4 just erase that track (C'MON!)
I don't care if only the track trust me
F***! what niggaz say only God can judge me
F***! what niggaz heard or think or even thought
Tried to fix my shortcomings I just came up short
Ya heard?

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Permalink Reply by Omar-Always winningcharliesheen. on October 20, 2009 at 1:00am

CO SIGN...

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Permalink Reply by Bunk Marciano | HFM2 = Nov.23 on January 16, 2010 at 1:59pm

your boy back rappin' his ass off
I grip the glass jaws, my flow Predator with the mask off
Black leather tint on the fast horse, the last Porsche
Ball like mad sports, passports, i'm back forth
One man attack force - Banks

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Permalink Reply by Jazzy on January 16, 2010 at 2:04pm

My name is Joker [okay]; habitual smoker
I burn so many trees, that I have splinters in my toaster.
I need a b**** to stay below my waist like a holster;
And then I sit my cup up on her booty like a coaster.
I brag about my money so they're calling me a boaster.
I holler giddyup like I was on the Ponderosa.
You say that you don't feel me, well come a little closer.
I'll show you what a gangsta look like; at least supposed tah.
My blunt is filled with very deadly weed, I call it dro;
My eyes, stay low like a gay dudes in the mens bathroom
Do you marvel at my flow, or shiver at my genius?
You think of STD's from all the hickeys on my penis.
We let the beat live, these other rappers are a bore.
I kill so many tracks; they recognize me at the morgue.
Bought a 20 pack of Trojans on my last trip to the store,
I did a show that night and had to go the next day to buy more.
You can test me if you want, examination if you choose;
But my glock will leave your shirt, looking like Dorothy's shoes.
No little Dorothy, see home is a place that I can't go.
... After a couple puffs, I'm somewhere over the rainbow.
I have these hoes afraid to take a look into there mirrors.
Skeet something on their faces that resembles aloe vera.
Reply to the officer, that's parsley on my seat.
We pass the blunt to one another like batons at a track meet.
Exactly; I know just what you peons are thinking.
"Mississippi niggas ain't s***..."
I don't see haters like I'm blinking.
My money keeps on growing, while your fan base keeps shrinking.
You wish you were a psychic, so you could rap just what I'm thinking




JOker. We do it for Fun Pt1

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