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Correct Cut From A Different Cloth Lyrics
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Artists: J
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Joe Budden
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Correct Cut From A Different Cloth
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[Intro: Ab-Soul] Look at me king Look at me king Soul Kaylin on the couch sleeping She wake up she gonna be like damnnnn [Verse 1: Ab-Soul] Come and spar with a titan If you ain’t knew it’s true I’m Zeus and I marvel at lightning What a marvelous sight Know the thought is enticing Flow stupid like 50 Tyson don’t trip with 50 Cent I beat em all like Tyson, that’s no coincidence Ab-Soul, don’t forget the hyphen, I might throw a fit You think I lived in the Salvation Army but all it is Is that we got a new 2Pacalypse Now When? Before the apocalypse, wow How do you come up with this? If you behind Ab, then maybe you can stomach this Who could fuck with it? I know you got a dick but use your head, bruh They sleeping on me by a colony of bed bugs Cut from a different cloth and no one knows my thread count My mind is like a sword, you’d swore I’d have a hair cut Soul and Budden, no discussion Joe, you know it’s nothing Wrote the score, and then I scored, metaphor, and 1 [Hook] I don’t know about you, hey, I don’t know about them I just do what I do, they just do what they can They be hating on the man, with a knife in their hand Cut from a different cloth, cut from a different cloth All these niggas on my dick, all these bitches on my balls Cut from a different cloth, cut from a different cloth Middle fingers to the fakers, middle fingers to em all [Verse 2: Joe Budden] Yall can hold the applause I just did what these other niggas was scared to do Tell me life is hard, I’ll ask what the fuck do you compare it to? Quarter on the loose, I’m blessed enough that I can spare a few Told me I’d be dead, the fact I’m breathing is a miracle Yall got Gollum, listening to all these dudes that yall call lyrical Excluding under conclusion That you young and you dumb if that’s how they appear to you I’d be lying if I said your words ain’t bother me Be lying I ain’t think it was trickery or reverse psychology I came in on Rakim, watch yall take the bar, yall lowered it Won’t stay in line like a battered wife, ain’t too many spots yall can go with it How long yall gonna febreeze manure and think the fans won’t notice it? Nah, I ain’t get angrier, but the chip on my shoulder did Not to gloat, if I ain’t one of the GOATS Ya’ll probably missed my track record Either that or yall just ain’t been keeping track of records I just been waiting till that sentiment passed Yall ain’t even gotta be drunk to feel this genuine draft I’m letting Benjamins stack Shouldn’t be hard to tell if the boy is potent I’m the only time you’ll see a madman be void of emotion Cause they fear me in any cypher the hear me in Only rapping with Soul for the outer body experience So hats off, y’all fit for this But yall the type we laugh at I’m way ahead, and when I aim for yours Something tells me he won’t snap back All I ever been was a outcast This time in the moment, I moved past that But the burner name is Jackson And your alias is Baghdad It’s not a game, try to execute 2K’D my old bitch, know I keep a ex to shoot If anyone tried to do the math they’d probably be mad as fuck Said I’d never amount to shit, now they trying to add it up [Hook]
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