I had blood clots, but I ain't Jamaican, man Story on MTV and I ain't trying to make a band I swear this right here is history in the makin' man I really
back to the basement Feels good takin' it back to the basics Like when I was hungry run around in my Asics S & M was like the new cool band That everybody
your livin Tryin to see how much weed you can take in your system Indeed, take out the seeds, then he finished his sentence Askin me what I believe, have I
I'm talking the hottest goddesses, wake me up with massages Some say I'm a narcissist, other say I'm misogynist I, say I'm a rockstar, let's take flight
So I froze Thinking bout being four years old I'm missing the Days when I was with everyone I knew just around the Christmas tree Now there's so many
on the Florida sands I feel like tourin' this land's made me more of a man From killa California to the shores of Japan Good times stayin' up late in
the modern preachers Crack beepers, yes knowledgeable preachers But that didn't effect, the Chubbster I'm from Brooklyn, so I have a little hustler In my blood when I
the marching band Uncle L, I love the heart land South Carolina, they lookin' so tan Out in Kansas, they so outlandish Up in Nebraska, I know whatcha
Cause I feel that my eyes saw too much sufferin' I'm just twenty some odd years and I already lost my mother And I cried tears of joy I know she smiles
My name is Joe Roberts I work for the State I'm a sergeant out on Perenville barracks No 8 I've always done an honest job honest as I could Got a brother
baby (chorus) i wish a nigga would, i wish a nigga would say i never put work in these streets i wish a nigga would, i wish a nigga would say i never
bitch in the club I'm lookin' for her, I'm lookin' for her I got 5000 ones when I see her pimp, I'm throwin' it up I'm lookin' for her, I'm lookin' for
I be forgiven for all the, liquor and weed that I smoked When I succeed, will I cope? Will I still breathe without both? This ring Tech N9ne, I dunno, but when I go, I
cop I know you prayin' that I flop, nigga, but I get, I get, I get money I get, I get, I get money I get, I get, I get money I get money and that's
that brown paper bag money It feels good to be Young Money, Cash Money Rehab, I'm addicted to fast money I got stacks of rubber bands up in that Brown
that band of brothers Let it be Jonah, Job, Moses and me I've battled with some demons, I've lost the ones I've loved I shook my fist at Jesus and I
em back together Tell your mother that you are somebody new Feel the breeze blow and tell 'em all, "Look out here it comes!" Now I can say whatever I feel