Joe Budden and Ezo - Get No Younger

Uh, it's that knock right here
Uh, y'all in that mood yet?
You need a subwoof' to play this in the car by the way
Let's go
I'm a be quiet, let homeboy say what he gotta say
Get his little shout outs out the way
Goin', goin', gone

Now look, I'm in that 550 feelin' like Chuck Liddell
Aside from Rampage Jackson it's "fuck the world"
My lean game so mean, so fresh and so clean
Like a Sunday morning listenin' to Joel Osteen
Like my beats down low, I'm rimmed up with the seat back
Boo with the sweet back, I definitely need that
Even if her body make a nigga wanna eat that
Bitch, you don't make the nigga better, better see Fab
I know a bird named Amy, love to tea bag
Set you up right for some loosies and a weed bag
Alcoholic, cute face but her weave bad
And she went to the winehouse straight from the rehab
The recap rappers and they G stacks
Fixated on imaginary ice like freeze tag
I speed past, ease past with my G swag
I'm at a level most niggas couldn't see past

I been on my grind, chasin' dollars (chasin' dollars)
From the fall to the summer (fall to summer)
The streets are pullin' me under (pullin' me under)
And I ain't gettin' no younger

Some say "sky's the limit", still I'm tryna reach higher
So on my deathbed, I'm figurin' how to be flyer
I'm talkin' above heaven
But talkin' about death is me beatin' a dead horse and a nigga love Slevin' 'em up
80's baby with a 60's mind state
Yankee fitted backwards lookin' at whippersnappers
Livin' young and reckless, never mind who the best is (might as well)
They need to get rid of their style, put it on Craigslist (nigga)
'Cause you ain't crazy, stop it
Even if you was wild like Randy Moss, start feelin' patriotic
How I'm gon' lose with Tom Brady in the pocket?
Beggin' dude to come back like the Yankees did The Rocket
And just like Clemens did
Reappear to get the most wins it in, damn dickheads is so sensitive
Pussies get hemorrhages, find a way to benefit
Even when it seem the whole world is against the kid

I been on my grind, chasin' dollars (chasin' dollars)
From the fall to the summer (fall to summer)
The streets are pullin' me under (pullin' me under)
And I ain't gettin' no younger (whoa, I mean)

The burner's in the air
My J. Holiday'll put you permanently there
It's bedtime, niggas, weapon of mine niggas, Wesson or nine niggas
"Minority Report", I'm ahead of your mind niggas
You wanted to beef, you got twenty with you, I got a hundred with me
Now this is somethin' to see (oh)
Boogieman your whole squad, put you under some sheets
In that Dodge Richard Reid had under the sheet
On some Jetsons shit but if the shook type approach me
I'll fill 'em with metal 'til he look like Rosey
Niggs ain't off the hook like Joey
My feet is up cozy at the end of my bed
Get on my Puff Daddy all about the Benjamins shit
And turn my back on danger like Timbaland did, ya heard?
Hoodie over my head, the snub showin'
Fuck what the world's come to, where the fuck's it goin'? (Oh)

I been on my grind, chasin' dollars (chasin' dollars)
From the fall to the summer (fall to summer)
The streets are pullin' me under (pullin' me under)
And I ain't gettin' no younger

Written by:
Joseph Budden

Publisher:
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find