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Correct Making A Murderer Part 1 Lyrics
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Artists: A
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Andrea Martin
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Correct Making A Murderer Part 1
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Lyrics:
I'm right here per your request, now you stuck in them shoes No alliances with Meek, it's still fuck him too Before we start, to the fans, I'm uncomfortable too Stuck in the booth feelin' like y'all 'cause I got love for the dude But now my phone blowin' up, they're like what I'm gonna do? Show the world you shouldn't poke a man with nothin' to lose All of this just because I wasn't in love with his Views Whatever happened, I just know they got me fuckin' confused, hey Mic check, mic check One two, one two Wait a minute! I'm happy, I'm honored, I'm, I'm, I'm honored to be around you, man Yo c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon Okay so I can't be honest on your network here? I can't be honest to your fans and say I'm honored to be around you? It ain't an honor to be around me! We all used to listen to you so I don't even, you need to learn how to take compliments. Don't say that in vain, he's one of the best. You know that, right? What up? What up? I said don't say it in vain, you know he's one of the best Nah it's all love Look, enough of the sentimental crap Cool if you into that Fuck all of these subs, who they intended at? I won't believe it's me without forensic facts They don't normally mention Black when pennin' their raps But then I listen back, I heard a pinch of sass Tender ass Teddy come around, he gon' get pinned to grass I come around with every inch of the mag I'm a wordsmith forreal, you thought Quentin was bad You made me proud, lad, but it seems my child mad With all the clout that he grabbed, it's still doubts from his dad Look, this ain't promotional, you just emotional No doubt you got Starbucks, all that Joe in you I part his reign lightnin' fast, just what Joseph do A black cloud all over the 6, check the overview You're so indirect, shit wasn't real clear Either Jimmy actin' or he really miss a wheelchair What he don't know is we the most kindred of souls I should've did this two Kendricks ago He wanna sing? Well let's get into the show, commence my role For Jodeci, Boyz II Men, we at the end of the road I figure he's that close to his death to know the reaper In fitted sweats with old sneakers, the flow ether Gassed 'cause he KO'd Omeeka, no Joe's deeper Quick to put extension on singer, that's Moesha Nothin' 'bout Rick slick, but show of the Caesar My crust from the same old pizza as Mona Lisa So how you callin' out the lyrical god? Your face light up when you see me, talkin' Miracle Watts 'Cause your words ain't sayin' a thing I kilogram without weighin' a thing Nigga you baitin' a king Tell you the way that Golden State say to it's team Aubrey you gotta make a shot, you wanna play on the wing Dem a call me a murderer Dem a call me a murderer I never duck, just spray I'mma never miss mi aim Dem a call me a murderer There's some truth in that saying Dem a call me a murder Nobody seen nothing, nobody seen nothing What I see, ayy Look here, I just spit the facts, raging aristocrat Shooters heard them words, wanna get rid of that When they roll up, bet dude won't wanna live his raps He'll see the 6 upside down and wanna switch it back Wrath of a god sinner I'm too real, I bet your star tender I bet a mil', I'll bet a star tender But since the OG's Hov, here's what I wanna know If ain't no real niggas allowed the fuck would I wanna go? That's thinkin' back to Jay, now let's get back to Drake Both too big to respond to all I have to say Still with all their success and all their accolades The universe makes it so they come right back to me Here's a reminder that we go way back I mean um, you know for me the kid is practice, Hova I make these words flip as if they practice yoga Okay practice over, back to Blacklist Hova Nothin' personal, this Red Reddington Shawn, I don't work for you, still I'm doin' the work for you Payback, wire his jaw, reimbursin' you Metal all behind his face, Sprite commercial you Might have made a mistake out of this one Can't Bell Biv Devoe your way out of this one, nah So, warn your damn campaign that hammers rang I just bought a New Edition, you can't stand the rain Y'all say this soft nigga hard and that, I can't explain Y'all think he's soul for real, I see candy rain So Aubrey when you sub real MCs, you get murdered And since you signed to five guys, makes you a burger Dem a call me a murderer I never duck, just spray I'mma never miss mi aim Dem a call me a murderer Nobody seen nothing, nobody seen nothing What I see, ayy I'm from the school of pussy don't get me punch drunk Maybe it's different in the city you come from, look I'm from the school of these hoes belong to everybody No celeb exempt, goes for everybody So when I seen you fucked shorty, not a bitter bone in me I ain't think of how to handle the plan Said I'm aware, have fun, understand that it's fam Told that to you and not her, that's just the man that I am My nigga, kids got no respect Odd 'cause you called me for the hoe check on every hoe you checked That makes sense, bad bitches, that's what Joe do best And I's the man 'round these parts when they ain't know you yet Which kinda makes me your OG in Toronto And I ain't charge once, that's for free in Toronto I'm unsure how that came to be in Toronto Nigga I don't even be in Toronto When it rains it pours All that means, dog, get please get a poncho Subs fell short like a free throw from Rondo So rude, he gay, so mean with all the Budden threats As soon as we shoot at King, Demarcus Cousins' next This shit is truly a movie You started a trend bein' a groupie for groupies Me I, shoulda had Bria in the coupe and out her way Before you ever wrote an interlude about her So who you playin' with, clown I'm first shift at the bars, so only means I already made them rounds They say that he the best MC and best flow'er He cook better than me but you love my leftovers Fire the kill shot, the fire still hot Word to your Versace velours that Kyra still got You playin' chess with the chrome of the pump Let it blast, checkered past, shoulda known from the jump It's whatever you wanna roll, executives got your soul Sedatives, I'm repetitive with those records, show for Regular Joe, sellin' records was never the goal I never sold records, I kept records of what was sold Might have made a mistake out of this one Day's long, can't Trey Songz your way out of this one So don't worry yourself, and before I go Fuck a record label, I appear courtesy of myself, it's Joe
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