Artist: Joe Budden Album: Halfway House Song: Check Me Out Typed by: PDog1217@aol.com (*Samples from "Silly Love Song" by Enchantment plays throughout*) [Intro - Joe Budden - talking] (*echo*) Check me out right here Nahmean? Old school Old school niggaz used to be like What they used to be like? "Check me out now" What other ad-libs these old niggaz used to say? I don't know but fuck it Look [Verse 1 - Joe Budden] Now let me ask you a question Who are you? Where you from? What you reppin? Is every bar about a burner or a weapon? And now he all gassed up by his bredren (what?) Some tell me that my music is depressin (but a) But, best rapper in the world, I was destined Jumpoff! Must be the exception (I mean a) Am I the only one that's progressin in a recession? (listen) They tell me trickin ain't trickin if you got it I never heard more false words spoken So (so), if I tell you I'm a leave your wrist frozen I was either lyin to you or just jokin You could be in a wet T-shirt soakin You could, tell me how your shit get like the ocean (you could) You could, jerk me off with a bottle of lotion While ya legs open and have trouble gettin a token I grew up a little (see), see I'm much more mature My repertoire is one you can adore (ask around) That wasn't always the case, so that's for starter I'm enjoyin the hood, the one after father I used to invest in heroin With money in Maryland, not Merrill Lynch Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs And now I'm holdin stacks (as I), as I stroll in Saks Sing it! [Break - Joe Budden - talking] Uh, check me out now Ya mean? Nigga all grown up How ill is this shit? Now look, look [Verse 2 - Joe Budden] When I was younger I used to get ass for sport Now I'm less about her sex, I'm more into her thoughts (yeah aight) Nah, I ain't mean to cross that yet, I regress I'm more into her thoughts on sex And the property, fuck what's across my neck Be clear, I'm more into her career than her hair Her mind state, nothin is insurmountable (look here) I'm worried about her account (I mean a), is she accountable? Real man shit, I'm no longer outlandish The roof don't drop (but) but it's panoramic And I know haters can't stand it (so!) So I do it on purpose, still on my Jerz shit (oh!) We don't fall flat and we never cave in I lead pressure right to my doormat All that adversity never worried me If anything it feeds me, it'll nourish me (motivation) I try to keep it a hundred, non-fiction Lane switching's in my true religion with the double stitchin No fitted, T, Kid Robot 'Cause rap niggaz is ass and I don't dig Botox Into enterin clubs, dodgin photogs So they can talk shit about me for a whole blog Go hard, no prob, that's the plan (I'm like) No laughin jokes son (nigga), I'm a grown ass man, ya heard? [Outro - Joe Budden - talking] (*echo*) Uh, check me out now Yeah, Joey! Tahaha I swear to God If this roof came down This shit be down right now Snowin And I'd have my, my motherfuckin, my shades on and shit My hand out the window, smokin A blunt, next to the cops too Fuck off coppers! Cheah