Joell Ortiz - Thoughts lyrics

[Backing Vocals- Nico Vega] Mmmm mmmm mmmm mmmm [Verse 1- KXNG CROOKED] I snap on you rappers often When I'm spazzing I'm just getting my pa**ionate point across Like a hood cat clapping his hands when he's talking Now that I got your attention, I feel I should really mention Don't come around here flossing, Big Willies, we really lynch 'em Pull out the chopper, rappers hitting the ground Like every bar is a bullet, when I pull it, it sound like B-b-b-b-b a couple of bullets are coming your way then it jam Like goddamn Then I pick up something quicker, start k**ing everything in the vicinity The proximity, the Glocksimity, we on Yosemite Sam Bam, bam your body drop Van Damme, karate chop The Beretta's a better competitor Pop pop turn your sweater to a crop top k**in' you and whoever in that drop top Etcetera, etcetera and it will not stop Just shoot, shoot like doot doot And beaucoup, beaucoup, I'm cuckoo I'm a star going to war with you clones like Count Dooku I'm worlds apart from you rappers Like I walk in the booth rocking a biosuit made of plastic And NASA's galactic elastic traveling through space, interstellar rapid Broadcasting from uninhibited planets When I come back, that's it You see a flash in the sky, it's that n***a, I When I land, you wack n***as die And your casket is your last hit You wack b**h, f**in' ba*tard Back to the hand clapping You die quicker than Darren Wilson walking through Ferguson Dressed like the grand dragon of the Klan Pa**ing n***as with pants sagging With their hand on a black Magnum To clap him backwards So their last words is "kcuf meth nmad saggin" That's backwards for "f** them damn n***as" Buck them damn triggers Charge us, bodies fill up them damn Rivers Cause everybody wanna be the best rapper alive But I only like dead rappers Compare me to the best rappers who died And you rappers I used to look up to I gotta cancel you now Like Simon Cowell, I can't let you ex factors survive Nah, the time's right and they finally limelight in the god of this rhyme writing My mic can only be likened to Poseidon's trident and Zeus' lightning strike And my metaphors are what Thor was to the Norse viking I'm a born titan and at-point k** 'em like sword fighting I'm slicing organs with songwriting, I dwarf giants I hope I'm rubbing you pussies wrong sort of like poor dyking I smoke philosophy, I snort science That means I'm higher than higher learning, look in my eyes That's where the fire's burning Try to deny music's messiah returning You die and you fry in my iron furnace I am on my get rich or die trying like when Em was signing Curtis Cause I am murderous [Verse 2- Joe Budden] Now we can do this a couple of different ways, it really depends Could give them cla**ic NY jeans over the Timbs Or I could spit about my car and how it sit on the rims I could tell you why I'm hot and disappear like MIMS But the bars there, put that on God, ask an atheist And if ain't a bomb at least I'm in the blast radius I'm beating these kids' indictment, sh**, I like the terror APB on my actions, I'm in the viking era Moment of truth, I give you facts right now f** the cypher, my mind ain't on rap right now So it's f** metaphors and punches, all the witty sh** Got a missing uncle and another need a kidney flip Face says I been stressed I got an aunt getting her a** kicked by MS n***a, why am I here? For the look, for the promo sh** that bothered from the start Cause the cancer left his lungs and it's on my grandfather's heart Yeah, but not the side that the beat is on I'm supposed to put that to the side when the beat is on I'm planning the funeral, I'm getting the hearse ready These n***as only wanna ask me if the verse is ready Not the how do I feel, not the how do I deal If that's the life, n***a, then how is it real? These last couple of days I've been speaking to my peers Giving them cries for help, I guess they need to see the tears But wait, wildest part of all of that is They'll shoot a suicidal rapper right here on the bridge But f** it, gotta pardon 'em, shout out to my squad and 'em House Gang, Shady, I'm gone, n***a, my job is done [Verse 3- Yelawolf] I just fell off the turnip truck with Ernest Tubb I'm 33, I've got 3 kids and I just popped 3 pills I don't know which one's which or what it's for Safety ain't really a habit I've formed I still smoke to the cigarette bu*t I still drink till I end up being that klutz Clumsy, self-destructive dummy Stumbling over my words, mumbling I'll probably do it tonight Leave the bar, leave the car And pa** out like a fetus in a jar with my feet up to the stars And dream about that light that leads up to the lord I have nightmares about my momma getting beat up in the yard Wake up feeling like half a human Hit the studio and unleash this guilt and regret For my lack of union between rap, you and the rock and roll community For unity between country music and MCs, I'm claiming immunity Still I'm working, sawing, milling this tree Building this house exactly the way Charlamagne tha God and Lord Jamar thought it would be Wait a minute... the lord and the god hate me Jesus Christ, I am the white devil! Nah... I'm still working, sawing, milling this tree Building this house exactly the way I thought it should be Wanna take a tour? Let's see I've got floor-to-ceiling windows and a cabin-style mansion Books, bears, trucks, boats, tyres, spares, four-wheelers Three-wheelers, two-wheelers, a drug dealer on call Plaques on the wall, racks on the wall for my guns on the wall Lift kits, lowrider, chop shops, hi tops, low tops, cowboy boots Dixie flags, American flags, Slumerican tags on my Slumerican a** CEO I've got my name on the bathrobe, and the flame on the back porch is lit Guess who's coming to dinner? André 3000 and Hank the Third, go figure I've got two stand-up jet skis, a top pedigree horse, just a pet to feed of course Who rides a horse in Nashville? I might I've got bicycles for the kids, tricycles for the babies M-80s, bottle rockets, bottles in my pocket Moonshine, gold watches, gold rings All fake, no bling, don't hate, that's my thing I've got new clothes, old clothes, vintage, tremendous, endless style Goodwill loves me Mackle-more than you I've got flat screen TVs, with skate videos on repeat All the latest CDs, mp3s, and Beats by Dre Thank you very much, Jimmy Iovine for the check I've got a black woman fine as she can be Fefe with a ring on her finger that could give sight to the blind A 5, a 10, a couple hundreds laying on the counter I don't know where that came from I got artwork from hard work, yard workers for yard work Don't look under the tarp, sir I'm growing weed for my mama there I've got a paved driveway and photos in the hallway of me on my Harley And I did it my way See, hip hop is what you make of it And I'm making a lot of it See that's a quadruple entendre, Jay Z eat your heart out [Verse 4- Joell Ortiz] But these cyphers, I treat 'em like a war, don't want no mediators Nah, this that grow up in the P's behavior, next door to the greasy neighbors People thank you, I do this for all the mean creators I was someone who never needed favors to get where I'm at Now they deem me a savior But to be honest I ain't feeling like that, I just really like rap I'm not lucky, trust me I'm opposite the hands of Sandusky With the sh** that my pen states, these rappers can't touch me Ugly? sh**, you serious? I'm hideous I was better than all you silly kids when I was tryna figure out who I really is As a younger dude, life was something rude I barely made it to the first like a Cutler move No rubber groove on my shoes had to fight, so suspensions I had 3 in one week, yeah that was public school Did I say 3 in 1? That's funny cause there's 4 of us in the Slaughter That's 3 to 1, I learned that in public school too Like what's in between a 3 and 1 and House Gang, I spoke to all 3 on 1 call Like I dropped 2 albums and #3 is 1 second from being done Just need y'all 3 to send me 1 verse apiece For this Heatmakerz beat and brothers keep it 1 Simple mathematics, I'm adding up to all these rap addicts I don't like to divide dough so I multiply flow And subtract maggots Like a brand new Craftmatic, boy I'm back at it Smoking these new boys like my last habit Dagnabbit I tried to quit but everything I kick's like the last dragon Hoes s**ing my drummer dick, they on my bandwagon I just gotta laugh cause y'all pushing a lot of swag I'm pushing this big ole hearse, don't get body bagged [Verse 5- Royce Da 5'9"] These new rappers be asking me Why I don't be hanging out where they be hanging out I tell 'em, I say "Look, lil' n***a listen here" If I don't got no business there, I don't got no business there See there's a difference here You hustling so you can be seen n***a I'm grinding so I can disappear I don't do it like other rappers do When it's on time it's skull and bone signs at the stu We got guns you only find on your cheat code screen If you think I remind you of any of these n***as you wilding out Like Chico Bean When there's drama I don't ask no questions, I just clap in that direction I look at this gat like it's an actual accessory I'm anti-social so relax when you step to me n***a, I shoot the breeze with actual weaponry Your lil' stare downs won't fare well I got a pale conscience, I'm the grey area Last person I had a bond with was a bail bondsman Now imagine me hanging with y'all and we rapping on the same song n***a I'd rather juggle a couple of chainsaws Or run through hell with a pair of gasoline Hanes on I'm a star but not on some I wanna be a star kinda sh** The only celebrity that give a f** less than me is Marshawn Lynch Glock in the stash as a backup but the MAC will burst Cripple your style, your first born child will come out With a colostomy bag as the afterbirth I don't give a f** n***a I'll show up to Beyonce's show posing as Jay Z Stagger in your studio session with a bomb strapped to my chest Looking like Omarion holding his baby Jump in the 4 door Mercedes with a .44 listening to JoJo and KC Drinkin'gand sniffing enough blow that it got me thinking that I can exchange sicknesses This ebola for rabies That's it, just living the rapper life Banana clip in the air, looking like it's about to start singing it's MAC tonight MACs, I use this MAC as a component for thugs rollin' up I got this MAC on and you better stay in that corner Cause sh** can turn into that song except I don't give a f** what day it is I'll have this club going up, f** with me Mack magnet, attracting enormous green Slap this clip in this gat then call this arm Christy Mack Cause this b**h is stacked, war machine Life of a giant, but who needs size when you're wack and your team's soft Drag your girl down this hill 'till she admits that it feels like she's jacking the beanstalk We both got marketing plans Yours is to sell records and try to net more than you gross for Mine is to punch you in your face if you ever disrespect me And then go invest into a grocery store Rolled up with the Smith & Wesson and drew on you like let's fight now I do numbers, I turn you and your crew into two plumbers Translation, get your sh** together and pipe down f** a mic, I don't write, I chew and spit I'll shoot you and your sis if you insist I got my eyes on the barrel Silence is so big it look like I got Bobby Shmurda tied to the barrel And he doing this [Verse 6- Eminem] I just turned Slaughterhouse to a quintet Began to trend-set, murdered the friend's pet Made sh** as ill as it can get went in depth Like a f**ing vignette and two bars skins wet I'm already covered in sweat I wasn't even ready to come in yet AHH, let me set this drink down Beat up a gal, start beef with a pal Probably be wild 'til I'm wrinkled and senile And "Rap God" was a freestyle Off the top of the dome piece while I was asleep on the couch And I'm freestyling now I need a towel, sweat leaks from my brow It's burning my eyes, my cerebral is foul Cause sh** I'm thinking about should be illegal I need my head banned like the guy who left Cleveland, Ohio And went to South Beach with his talents Scream "f** you" on the way out and wink with a smile This whole game can eat a dick, I'm going back deep underground But right now I'm back on that bullsh** and you I'm singling out Cause you're so f**ing outdated you should mingle a while What the f** is this clusterf** of busters Bunch of Buster Douglas', motherf**ers is one hit wonders One swing and you're crowned Knocked one out the park, one catchy jingling now You think you f**ing with me cause you sold like 300 thou b**h, I can jump without my feet ever leaving the ground Reach up, swing from a cloud with 3 thousand people around Evil and vile enough to leap in the crowd And heave a child in a sinkhole on Cinco De Mayo When I'm sprinkled in pico de gallo Mardi Gras beads in a towel I just made that up I don't know much Spanish, I'm not bilingual But I'll show you a Mexican standoff Between just these two amigos Cause neither really wants to say what we're thinking outloud But I sure as f** think I know how rebody English, no doubt Cause we're trying to k** each other, but lyrically The f** is humility? What is a real emcee? Royce, he came up in the sh** with me Never spit that hustling sh**, it wasn't a fit for me Let them adjust 'til they just get the gist of me Just not giving a f** and plus with the history And muscular dystrophy, it wasn't a mystery Why this middle finger was stuck in this upper-positioning So what in the f** is a list to me? I'm used to not being on it, I expect it out 'em Heck, man, I get my respect without 'em And really been into diamonds since I put my first record out But I could put a chain around my second album And wear it as a neck medallion Became a millionaire, went downhill from there Became civil, office swivel chair, sterling silverware Screaming life is still unfair 'till I get a real career The f** am I gonna do until then? This job is too fulfilling Two gazillion pairs of super villain shoes to fill in And a mood to k** till I plow my Coupe de Ville To some children at the food pavilion and Build-A-Bear Warrior's mind, I'm pro-hydrocodone euphoria In the drug emporium line, I'm soaring I'm pouring Vicodin four at the time ignoring the warning signs Full on until I go four wheeler driving Gory and violent and horrifying You surely won't find a more important With this glorious rhyme with But I finger her like a witness, show me a line-up I usually am abusive, but excuse me, m'am I guess I must've threw you for a loop like toucan Sam When I said I could use the sample cause you's a tramp But look how you react to this trigger like When I call you a bigger dyke than the Hoover Dam You playing right in Lex Luthor's hands It's such a ruthless plan, might even lose a fan But f** it, Superman wouldn't change in a phone booth for Stan I'm a brand new being like Grand Pubahs' band Happy as Anderson Cooper having a tuba crammed In his pooper with lubricant...wait, that's too, I can't... Since honesty is the best policy I'll give you the old college try Try to acknowledge my mistakes, probably won't qualify As a gentleman and a scholar, but it's time that I swallow pride To say that I'm sorry, sorry that I can't apologize I think of all the times I compromised my bottom lines And thought of rhymes that sodomized your daughters minds Then I'm like dollar signs But I may fight for gay rights especially if they dyke It's more of a knockout than Janay Rice Play nice, b**h, I punch Lana Del Rey right In the face twice like Ray Rice in broad daylight And in plain sight of the elevator surveillance Til her head is banged on the railing Then celebrate with the Ravens Never dated an a**ailant that self-medicates with inhalants I meditate, but I may need a better way to escape The aggression, rage and the anger Cause them restraints on the ankles Heavyweights and an anchor with handcuffs in chains This ain't enough to contain it But I still get the same respect as Jay if I came on Stage in a f**ing negligee everyday and Liz Claiborne Devastated from breakup with Kate Hudson Wait, s*ut your friends, what are they gonna say Cause makeup ain't gonna cover That eye that's 7/8 of the way shut Pepper Sprayed with your face cut Made my bank like a lay up Of these effing skanks on the way up Oh, b**h thinks she's heaven sent It's evident that she ain't never been with seven inches Yes, I said seven, I measured it Seven inches from the floor While I'm standing on the fourth floor balcony Get to sharing when I'm stretching it b**h, I'm a pimp so a limp dick is all you'll ever get So if she's hesitant to get the hint I'll bet you that I get the message sent who she's messing with Eloquent when I tell a chick not to never use s** as a weapon When I step in and beat the wretched wench with a crescent wrench Existential detriments to a lesbian devil In the a presence stench of an estrogen level That separatists like a Chechen rebel Impressionist with a pencil A pessimist, with his lips pressed against The edge of this Red Bull Pedal to the metal I'm ripping this sh** cause right away I'll give it to a b**h like a pedestrian, deadly as ever You see what kind of effects she has on the opposite s** when I push her flexible little s**y a** through a plate of plexigla** SHADYXV as perplexing as The last fifteen years and I'm producing my next relapse When I spit these lyrics so don't look at me weird When I start shifting gears and sh** besmears all over Britney Spears And these little Disney queers Who use chicks for beards? Just made that up too… Oh in the Shady 2.0 We wrote in roman numerals like they do for the Super Bowls ‘Cause it's supposed to confuse you hoes The flows lose you as usual, so juvenile 2 year old when I go to the studio It's only music but don't be foolish though You don't know me through it ho but you can blow me to it though in my homie's Buick Been known to lose it though so if I overdo it you drove me to it When I step in the vocal booth like I'm supposed to do And I murder you on a f**ing track like Tony Stewart In one take, if I f** up I don't redo it You couldn't sound grown on a beat if you were moaning to it The day I don't say f** you all, you can throw me through it Rooting this, tooting this, shooting this from the hip With the synonyms, Eminem isn't penning them for the women I'm an enemy to them and the epitome of an inconsiderate idiot But they consider me equivalent to chlamydia They tryna get rid of me gadzooks But I stiggity stand for the figgity flag Of the United States and the freedom, I distribute these raps through And if I catch you doing anything Hindering or prohibiting that after I give me that Tattoo of your lips on my a** I'mma be literally Picking up and deliberately whipping the Statue of Liberty at you [Verse 7- deleven] Deleven, strange thoughts and introspections My perspectives will leave you in a state of perplexion What is wrong with him, it'll leave you asking I reckon he has something off, nothing, I respond My train of thought is just beyond what can be comprehended by you dumb blondes Yeah I'm an oddball and damn proud I scream out loud in downtown Chi-town My god, look at everything I've surmounted But I'm still space bound b**h, f** the limits Brilliant, auspicious, vicious, a little malicious Words that could fit my description Owen's definition, it's how I work, my algorithm Doing things in a mannerism of reaching my desired position I have a premonition that I'm about to achieve big sh**, going in I'm a co*ky prick, degenerate, irreverent Acting like a bad kid has always been an inveterate Ever since I stole that red toy jet And I didn't stop my antics When I was 11 the teacher almost knocked me in my f**ing head Years later, I'll be lying f**ing dead Probably because of some sh** I said left someone full of resentment But f** it, I'd rather live speeding over 100 Than stay in line with the rest b**h, I'm not evanescent, alternatively aberrant Attacking this sh** effervescent, so f**ing intense Grabbing this b**h by the neck, before it can even start fussing or protest I guess it has to quickly acquiesce to my presence Get immediately used to it I'm not fading into obscurity or obsolescence b**h, remember me for centuries Feel my energy, crazy revelry, festivities Because I know I'm heading up the road to prosperity In these verses, looking for every granularity Making them into my masterpieces That's where I get my dexterity Fulfilling, hard- hitting, springing into action Actin' like a rapscallion But all he's doing is k**ing these tracks with pa**ion, enthusiasm With his mind set on making this sh** a fantastic cla**ic Style epigrammatic, charismatic, idiosyncratic magic Rap fanatic, hit the mic, looking spastic May be slightly bombastic But hey, at least I don't act all high and mighty, when there's a flaw of mine, I'll admit I have it I alway strive to be real, no plastic, acting all dramatic The thought of it makes me sick Owen Powell, real name no gimmicks, no bullsh** If you listen to me, you know who you're getting, know that I've written it And knowing that sh** makes me thrilled Music is my drug, and I'm higher than a b**h who pops 500 molly pills in Druid Hills When I spit I make an effort to be ill I feel like every rhyme's my last So I try to grasp on the moment, capture it, seize it and own it Knowing that time pa**es faster and faster, it's going So I try to treat every second like it's holy Devoting it to flowing, I'mma poet Making rhymes explosive, lines hitting you like bullets My voice is a f**ing weapon, I'm holding the trigger, ready to pull it So whether it gets b**hes pissed or hopping on my dick, I don't give a sh** I'm just doing what I've always dreamt about, since I was a kid Building the house, I've always wanted to live in And doing it in deleven's fashion Climbing the ladder, everyday getting richer More vigour, growing bigger and bigger Sicker and sicker Like a b**h who drank too much hard liquor Now I'm feeling dizzy, my head's about to start spinning I got everyone claiming I've gone insane but this is just the beginning I say while I'm rubbing my hands together, grinning Hold my hand, let's go for a ride, I'm sure it will be thrilling Living a hell of a life Whatever time I get, I'll optimize Maximise writing rhymes, legendary lines I'm getting the whole nation on an uprise, with my box of surprises From both sides, black, white, left, right Damn, is that what really happens when I say what I like Aww sh**, I do really have a f**ed up mind Sometimes, I even get myself stupified But I still trot around with my middle finger to the sky Not giving a flying f** about your standards, to me they're not applied You can call me demoralized, but hey, at least I'm not f**ing my 3rd wife I'm just carrying out my right to spend time how I will So I will, it's simple Freethinking, let's take a tour of my mental Here's the part where rhymes are a**embled Be careful, sometimes they're pretty hard to handle Oh well, take a look around, some thoughts are pretty f**ed up, how else do you think I come up with this material I used to treat this mind like a curse, because it stopped me from being one of the cool kids, but now I'm thankful Without it, I wouldn't be able to make charms happen on a piece of paper Master of the English language, and f** it, I'll also k** sh** in Spanish What you may call brain damage, I use it to my advantage Putting down my baggage, and turning bullsh** into works of greatness So I'm raising my champagne to all my fabrications, everything I've created Because they're what I'm made of Why I'm never fading, All this sh** here is everlasting Because I dared to deviate While everyone else was going straight, I said “f** it” and went the other way I'm not afraid to be a little risqué, crazy, acting zany So I'll let you say what you want about me But without a doubt you won't stop me from achieving Reaching the top of this rap game Deleven, trying to get there ambitiously On the daily, grinding, rising, with his eye on all the prizes Ready to f** up this music sh** before he's even driving Signing out, deleven