Joe Budden - Six Minutes of d**h lyrics

[Verse 1: Jae Millz] Ayo Millz break the block down from A to Z I can supply you with work lil' n***a, I'm like the Temp. Agency I'm in the kitchen wood chilled with the feet broke Soft white got the table lookin' like a ski slope f** "goin out" me and my money elope And most n***as rap about money but they be broke My man went to Moorehouse and had a strong flow So I had him pitchin' in Atlanta like John Smoltz Makin' money make the world go round A stack'll make a n***a girl go down, clown Patron and Grey Goose'll get the b**h loose And after the crew I'll have her lickin' on the 'sis too We gettin' money where I'm from n***a You gettin' tired of your chick tell her pack her sh** (I'll come and get her) I'll put her on to some sh** and get her grind right Get her mind right fatten the a** and get her spine tight I'm the flyest, most n***as want a deal with Nike I'm like dumb n***a I'm tryna buy it I need percentages I don't care who the hottest Lil' n***a I think +BIG+ like Christopher Wallace And I (and I) won't stop till my grand kids' grand kids sittin on dollars And I ain't even a father, n***a Call me your majesty, I'm young black and fly When it come to dough I got a Jewish mentality Lil' f** n***as still tryna battle me I go in they mouth like I'm the dentist lookin' for cavaties I don't know why your mans hyped you with that battery I'll hit your whole team with caps and I don't mean salaries, n***a I already got dough now I'm chasin the power I'm the statue stand tall cuz I'm replacin' the Towers And these n***as washed up now they faces is sour Mad cuz they broke and lonely and I'm makin them dollars With enough divas to spread out to ten cities I can throw a**ists all night like I'm M. Bibby Harlem got a f**in' reason to front now Uptown, let's go we got a reason to stunt now I told Joey and Stack sh** ain't in tact Captains lost our city now we gotta get it back n***a, you can take it how you wanna But ain't nothin impress me for the last three summers I don't give a f** how disrespected you may feel n***a see me when you see me It's whateva, it's Jae Millz mother f**er [Verse 2: Stack Bundles] n***a the crew feel better when well rounded (chea) Still rounded (chea), dress square but a n***a well rounded Grounded like I came home late on my curfew And proved I was better than most n***as my first two (what) Lil' years in the mixtape league Now it's biddin' war time I got a Bloomburg league So the hood's overwhelmed (why) They know it's the voice of the hustler whenever they hear son up at the Helm Son give'em hell like "damn, he on the advocate" The fans fiendin' for it they got the addict itch That's the bundles put it all in your nose These n***as is lil' me's, hear it all in their flows Ho's, that's a topic you don't even wanna touch on I face f** the ones you couldn't touch on Hand brushed on see the denim know what these bout The Antiques, Red Munkey's, or Vi's out Yall bring the V's out I can even splurge GT's wasn't me so I'm leanin' towards the Spurs Leanin' towards the furs a lil' more to my nature Mink coyote, fox all in the nature I get it in blocks I'm the Semour Cakester I give it on the arm you can get it from me Caues if prices was any cheaper y'all be sellin' it for free Paid 2-3 sell it for 2-2-5 McDonald's is making more for profit on super size I spit the truth inside n***as wrote the fake sh** These n***as practicin' snitchin' y'all on some jake sh** Millz spoke on it, I agree with him Can't even spar with n***as what's the reason for a gym Ain't hot even to even work up a sweat I been fire since Wu days with The Perfect Ca**ette So when you mention my name these n***as get offended No chain on just a five star pendant General of that Riot so Squad Up Feelin' real prestigious hoppin' out that Porsche truck I'm on top of my game and still climbing They not f**ing with him can't even peel the hymen [Verse 3: Joe Budden] It's the n***a with the mask on that will yack dude for j**els Ain't gotta say it, that dudes the truth Make me put that tool to use And these n***as will be in the game shakin like Mahmoud Abdul Rauf Not turrets, gotta rep, my team to the end Lambos to ferraris to the beamers to the benz If I blam it'll k**, never ran never will Only thing that bleed on me is these jeans on my timbs Hat low its not a weak link in my squad I'm LL In Too Deep, I'm thinkin I'm God As far as rappers I'm thinkin they're frauds Call them all rubix cubes cause I really used to think they was hard For once trust me you don't wanna start problems The pound will make you Eddie Curry with a heart problem So if you on the block wit only a few grams man Then you a bird n***a, Tucan Sam And any beat ima air that, rappers just gotta wear that Fox Brown should be the only one that can't hear that Hit you in the spine or the belly, gun on me I ain't Sticky Fingaz, I ain't leave mine in the telly, smell me? Thank god he ain't f**ing wit that red line Cause i'll merk any n***a that disrespect mine If it wasn't fed time, or lock up or rec time, dude'll be a daily news headline You ain't the best, what memo got sent? If you got dogs what kennel they in? So if you wanna get fresh like a mentos mint Then it'll tempt those men, wit clips longer than Leno's chin Ain't no type guts wit you You Terrel Owens them n***as that wear eagles They don't even wanna f** with you Me fam? I was pimpin weed dirt,back when n***as used to rock Simpsons t-shirts I'll give it to any n***a, I mean any n***a Big man or skinny n***a, dare a dude tempt me n***a Auto or semi n***a, dump it till it's empty n***a They don't even want you in New York, you like Penny n***a Check the time it's around that hour Lil n***as they ain't around that powder They ain't super or Luigi or Mario, ain't found that power Plus they couldn't spit fire if they found that flower Cowards, know the toys bust loco They tryin to dap my hand like the Boy's Club logo And yea that 5 slide and clock I'm the Million Dollar Baby, but I won't die tryin to box Dont want a piece of the cake, I won't the pie and all I don't believe 'em when they say they be supplying the raw You don't move white you lying dogg That's a neverending story without the white flying dog These dudes is broke don't know the feeling of bread They in dept, tampon n***as still in the red And the fans keep askin if ya man stopped beefin I call 'em Mr. Fantastic, tell 'em stop reaching