Låttexter: Joe Budden. Check Me Out.
[Verse 1:]
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?
Now he all gassed up by his presence
Some tell me that my music is depressing, but
The best rapper in the world, I was destined
Jumpoff! Must be the exception
Am I the only one that's progressing in the recession?
They tell me tricking ain't tricking if you got it
I never heard more false words spoken
So, if I told you I'm a leave your wrist frozen
I was either lying to you or just joking
You could be in a wet T-shirt soaking,
You could, stomach how your sheets get like the ocean
You could jerk me off with a bottle of lotion while ya legs open
And have trouble gettin a token
I grew up a lil, see I'm much more mature,
My repar is one you can adore
That wasn't always the case so that's for starter
I'm enjoying the hood, the one after father
I used to invest in heroin
With money in Maryland, not Marrow Lynch
Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs,
And now I'm holding stacks as I stroll in Saks
Sing it!
Uh, check me out now!
[Verse 2:]
When I was younger I used to get ass for sport
Now I'm less about her sex, I'm more into her thoughts
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 then her hair
Her mindstate; nothing is insurmountable
I'm worried about her account, is she accountable?
Real man shit, I'm no longer outlandish
The roof don't drop but it's panoramic
And I know haters can't stand it
So I do it on purpose, still on my Jerz shit
We don't fall flat, and we never cave in
I leave pressure right to my doormat
All that adversity never worried me
If anything it feeds me, it a nourished me
I try to keep it a hundred, non fiction
Lane switching in my true religions with the double stitching
No fitted, T, Kid Robot
These rap niggas is ass and I don't dig botox
Into entering clubs, dodging photogs
So they can talk shit bout me for a whole blog
Go hard, no prob, that's the plan
No laughing joke son, I'm a grown ass man
Check me out now!
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?
Now he all gassed up by his presence
Some tell me that my music is depressing, but
The best rapper in the world, I was destined
Jumpoff! Must be the exception
Am I the only one that's progressing in the recession?
They tell me tricking ain't tricking if you got it
I never heard more false words spoken
So, if I told you I'm a leave your wrist frozen
I was either lying to you or just joking
You could be in a wet T-shirt soaking,
You could, stomach how your sheets get like the ocean
You could jerk me off with a bottle of lotion while ya legs open
And have trouble gettin a token
I grew up a lil, see I'm much more mature,
My repar is one you can adore
That wasn't always the case so that's for starter
I'm enjoying the hood, the one after father
I used to invest in heroin
With money in Maryland, not Marrow Lynch
Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs,
And now I'm holding stacks as I stroll in Saks
Sing it!
Uh, check me out now!
[Verse 2:]
When I was younger I used to get ass for sport
Now I'm less about her sex, I'm more into her thoughts
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 then her hair
Her mindstate; nothing is insurmountable
I'm worried about her account, is she accountable?
Real man shit, I'm no longer outlandish
The roof don't drop but it's panoramic
And I know haters can't stand it
So I do it on purpose, still on my Jerz shit
We don't fall flat, and we never cave in
I leave pressure right to my doormat
All that adversity never worried me
If anything it feeds me, it a nourished me
I try to keep it a hundred, non fiction
Lane switching in my true religions with the double stitching
No fitted, T, Kid Robot
These rap niggas is ass and I don't dig botox
Into entering clubs, dodging photogs
So they can talk shit bout me for a whole blog
Go hard, no prob, that's the plan
No laughing joke son, I'm a grown ass man
Check me out now!
Joe Budden
Andra artister