Joell Ortiz - Run This Town lyrics

[Verse:] Never did I think I wasn't that n***a Couple labels said they couldn't sign a fat n***a I went home got in the zone grabbed that pad, n***a Now they kickin' theyself in they a**, look they calves bigger Years later still ain't got a six pack, n***a My fat belly still jiggles when I laugh, n***a I coulda stayed on the block, I'm still a crack pitcher Y'all turned away and Maybach 'fore I Ac vigor Your wife complaining cause she want her a** bigger I'm living life, erry night I'm like Jack Tripper Y'all showed your a** when y'all was all in the mag' pictures Now you're in the backround ya little ad libber Now everybody won't be buddy buddy Cause I stay in the light like funny looking money n***a I'm nice like your first grade teacher Y'all n***as' flows fishy like mermaid features Hard not to floss when your bars got a cough Your songs got the HIV and there's SARS on your thoughts If me and you ever lyrically sparred then you lost You on Earth in a lemon I'm on Mars in a Porsche And it's a 9-11 like behind oh of course I ball like playing Rajon Rondo in horse My condo in New York is like an obstacle course My hallways longer than a far throw to Morse N.Y. what it do, I do this rhyme sh** for you Walk around like "What's the next beat that I'm gonna chew?" So this what I decided to do, through all the sweats And the kicks hit this track and now I run it too Sometimes I hear myself and I'm like damn That's what happens when I'm in front of a mic stand? My flow is almost as hard as my right hand You beating me up's like a m**m saying he likes ham Seen n***as come and go overnight fam One hit careers, my career has a lifespan Ever wonder what a one hit wonder is First bat in the pros wasn't single, but he swung and missed And every f**in' pitch they threw after that Can't make contact, the fans scream "This batter's whack!" When I'm up, they like "Yes, big yaowa papi!" Cause for years I've been clutch like a Kawasaki Point out anything you heard from me that sounded sloppy Yeah that's right keep searching like you're out of Sake Any time I'm in that booth you get your a** whipped And I'mma keep on fighting like Brad Pitt Y'all ain't got the luxury to pick if you gon' f** with me What I spits crazy like glue so your stuck with me So y'all can hate me or y'all can sing along Competitions dead like a bee when its stinger's gone [Outro:] YAOWA! YAOWA!