Joe Budden Broken Wing Freestyle Lyrics
            The voices ain't leave yet,
            Just gettin' they feet wet
            Eyes red, I'm up, ain't been to sleep yet
            d___ near two days, ain't even eat yet
            If you don't wanna bounce, 'least take a little recess
            And still I'm faced with the bullshit
            Feelin' like w____ D, Scarface and Bushwick
            Dog, just when I gather its dead
            I gotta knock on wood like Hank Gathers head (*AN NBA PLAYER THAT DIED ON THE COURT*)
            When I make small steps toward making it global
            My tight knit circle turns into a oval
            Filled with motha f___as just pretendin' they know you
            These snakes in the grass'll do whatever to coax you
            Since they wanna hem you quick
            I walk around like a Ginsu's tip
            And that's just to get a mental grip
            You don't feel what the pencil scripts!?
            Then eight times outta ten you ain't been through s___
            When you hear Joe you hear the conviction and diction
            That open emotion, devotion is different
            Real talk of when he ain't have a pot to p___ in
            He ain't have a car not one rock to glisten
            I'm giving 'em non-fiction,
            conning his addictions
            Ya'll got the easy job, just listen
            I do it for my folk and those of another pigment
            A little food for thought, you feelin' malnutrition
            But you don't hear a peep outta me
            About the black face goin' on and the sheep leadin' sheep
            It's deep, so I try to stay grounded like dad
            Must be in City Island, I'm surrounded by crabs
            Was once tight, grew apart for dollars
            Was on the same panel, now he's Star and Barbara
            Two different views, two different lifestyles
            I think 'long the way one of us got confused
            Look, you a hustla, still attracted to the scene
            Still doin' s___ I gave up at sixteen
            You won't get a job, believin' your own lies
            You rationalize by sayin' you pursing your dreams
            You d___ near thirty n____, you ain't got cream
            Can't take care of you, when you worried 'bout your team
            My dude, want a hand out, wait in line
            But the clock's still tickin' man you playin' with time,
            It's so sweet
            Thought I was f___ed up with no shoes 'til I met me a n____ with no feet
            Tried to help n____z, some n____z I couldn't
            That's my mom in me, I love n____z I shouldn't
            Dudes wanna shoot 'em 'til he nailed
            Some wanna threaten me, ruin my health
            Let me teach you a little something 'bout depression
            Ain't s___ you could do to me I ain't already thought about doing to myself
            I'm the voice for the youth that's living with no reason
            f___ record sales, I give 'em something to believe in
            If your day starts in that broken home
            Though we never met, 'least they feel like they not alone
            Like I was back when I was tryna' find dip
            The tsunami came through my hood in nine six
            And tried to murder dog,
            I took a little dive
            Then I got on my surfin board and kept slidin'
            Feel like A-Rod, some say his time's up
            Boo a n____ at home, yup I'm in my prime But
            he by far the best player on the team
            And then turn around, drop 'em to the bottom of the lineup
            Should get traded, but he don't wanna move
            'Cause this the only city he got somethin' to prove
            And that's why I'm seen with heaters
            'Cause you can't be the man when you on the same team as Jeter Ya dig (*shot at Jay-Z)
            it's like the game ain't gettin' suitable
            Makin' me so sick I need Chicken Noodle Soup
            Rappers flyin' high, then got suicidal
            Imitate Jim Jones, end up like Cory Lidle
            I married hip hop, ignored what some was tellin' me
            I started hearin' rumors of infidelity,
            I ain't divorce 'er
            All the other dudes is so wack that I aint even feel a little jealousy
        
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