Joe Budden - Where I’m From lyrics

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Joe Budden - Where I’m From lyrics

[Verse 1: Joe Budden] [?] not New York, but dudes get stabbed Get shot like New York, n***as get robbed Get got like New York, but they don’t make the news ‘Cause it’s not New York Hope you heard me, boy, look, I’m from Jersey, boy Where it’s still half off that [?], boy I was driving, shotgun was Ike when that f*ggot on the bike Rode by and tried to murk me boy But chill, here’s the head crack, I’m an O.G., I don’t [?] that [?] you nah mean? [?] tools gon’ flare In a society if you nobody then actually who’s gonna care? They won’t call your next of kin, I’ll make your family aware And the whole hood is dipped up so having sanity’s rare I’m from where embalming fluid ain’t stop yet and city hall’s primary project Is knocking down the projects, they ain’t finished that yet See, I’m from carjack central, n***as’ll go in your ride While you pick up the Jersey Journal, “Damn, so and so died” I’m from where the dope game is bad, so every hustler can’t hustle Tryna hustle [?] rapper [?] a young n***a with a few bars to say ‘Cause n***a, rap’s the new wet, weed, and yay I’m from where [?] had it locked ’til dude had him shot For everybody to see and everybody was relieved I’m from where the blocks is dark [?] with ya gun co*ked And the hospitals will f** you up worse than a gunshot From where screws is loose, gunpoint dudes strip nude And that ain’t even half of New [?], n***a [Ad-Libs: DJ Clue] O-oh, o-oh [?] [?] [?] [Verse 2: Stack Bundles] From the last stop on the [?] train where the youngun let his thang bang We shoulda left the two [?] Where the skies is great ’cause no stars around [?] was the last star around Home [?] in the street Fourty n***as [?] fourty-first side piece Where Edgeman, Raw P, and Redford [?] Get your sh** [?] no gettin’ it back We’re from where b**h n***as go to jail and turn thug, and (what else?) Crip n***as go to jail and turn Blood, and n***as come home, flip a lil weed End up with barbershops and music stores with CD’s [?] n***as on seventh was gettin’ it [?] [?] their own workers [?] uncomfortably Where they argue ’bout whose f**in’ whose broad Or whose drivin’ what cars [?] n***as hatin’ like he got that [?] Where old heads [?] gettin’ it [?] kept gettin’ robbed So they wanted out the game and converted to God Where n***as play the corners ’til they pecks is done And out-of-towners come to blam blam the cannons and run From the other side where Queen’s n***as don’t come through much The record exec’s wouldn’t sign us, said we’d done too much So they ran over to Brooklyn and thought [?] I don’t know what the f** they thought, them n***as [?] just like us [?] the streets get the best of you the beef’s inevitable [?] half price, [?] [?] the soldiers fall and thugs we are all I’m from [?], son, just thought I’d remind y’all [Chorus: Stack Bundles] [?] sh**’s thorough [?] son Ain’t nothin’ nice (nothin’, nothin’) [?] sh**’s thorough [?] son Ain’t nothin’ nice (nothin’, nothin’)