Back to the previous page

Artist: Joe Budden
Album:  Mood Muzik 4: A Turn 4 the Worst
Song:   No Idea
Typed by:

[Intro - Joe Budden - talking]
Check this shit
I just wrote this shit
Check this shit out

[Verse 1 - Joe Budden]
Look, I was always told you can't make it make sense, don't trust it
So I be out the country with the phone on - fuck it
Grown from when I was dusted
But took somethin away out of every moment I suffered
So y'all can go on and judge it
There's a reason that I'm tellin baby girl she gotta practice patience
I plan on changin my ways, I'm just procrastinatin
Puttin it off like I'll never be in a casket layin (until)
With both my parents goin crazy as the pastor's prayin
Prideful, I don't even succumb when defeated
All that do is get me mad and I'm comfortable heated
I come from a family of drunks, I'm the one that succeeded
So nowadays I talk to God, when nothin is needed (Father, forgive me?)
I'm sorry I don't speak the language of
Rappers that's in the closet but they won't hang it up
I'm only tryin to build what they attempt to destroy
We had a perfect game until it was Jim Joyce'd
Check it, what was once so majestic, is now only adored by epileptics
I record to resurrect it, by my own accord I can't accept it
But when somethin gives you nightmares, can you afford to recollect it?
If you can just know them odds stacked
"Airplanes ain't shootin stars", you can't B.o.B that
I found out when it come to discussin paper
Some'll sell they soul and deal with the repercussions later

[Chorus - Joe Budden]
With every curve they throw, every shot that blows, I'm still here
It be the ones that's pretendin to know, really have no idea
I just let 'em all go ahead and speak my name
How far you gonna reach for fame?
Go ahead, fuck up your career
I don't care, 'cause they have no idea

[Verse 2 - Joe Budden]
Check it, so sick, it's livid, all pics are vivid
A stip' of bein gifted, gotta be equipped to live with
His critics, misquote him and miss tidbits
So he's mislabeled, misunderstood, misfitted (talk to 'em)
Anytime I was misinformed or misguided
I went and got advice from a dude that wouldn't apply it
And he'll give out that lesson for free
Without a grudge but I keep the past present with me
So every morning on the wake up, she's applyin makeup
And I'm ponderin all the different ways for us to break up (why?)
Women have a tendency to get fickle
Predictable, lie and say his dick little
It be the ones you could see yourself with forever
Givin you a lecture, talkin about you neglect her
Couple years in, the strip club will upset her
And she'll act like you ain't have them same habits when you met her
When you can't take her
You start droppin hints for her to read between the lines but she'll act like Fantasia
It'll be so much to be said but no one'll convey it
The relationship will be over but no one'll say it
A doomed fate, livin with who you'd soon hate
Ex-life partners trying to co-exist as roommates
Once you go through it, you'll believe it
And you'll never give a woman more than you'll want her to leave with (oh!)


[Verse 3 - Joe Budden]
Check it, how can the fans think us rappers are invincible?
Can't find anything about that logic that's sensible
I'm thinkin they should know better off of principle
To them we're action heroes, to labels we're "Expendables" (talk to 'em)
My old approach was apprehensible
Some started thinkin they fifteen minutes of fame was extendable (nah)
They don't cherish the moment like they probably should
Once they star's cemented, they act Hollywood
Gwapped up stacks to grip
Now you're being chauffeured in the back of whips, lifestyle's immaculate
Out of touch with reality, I'll help you get a grasp of it
Success breeds change but so does a lack of it
The homies sendin out subliminals
Since you a failed rapper, failed criminal, four bars the minimal
Since you ain't from the streets, I'll help and tell you the way it works
Say a nigga snitchin, I'm sayin "show me the paper work"
I don't get why the inferior bother to diss me
Heart of my city, when I go, takin part of it with me
I think God'll understand that was part of my misery
So instead of "Father forgive me," it's "Father, ya dig me?"
Spectated just to see if I'd be checkmated
Less progress brings less hatred, which would segue it
I learned the hard way some things are better kept sacred
Fail at given 'em your all, you'll just be left naked

[Chorus] - w/ ad libs

[Outro - Joe Budden - talking] (*echo*)
One more 'gain, oh!