Released: August 11, 2009

Songwriter: Joe Budden

Producer: Young McFly

I ain't the social type
Joey!
Nah mean
I ain't with all the congregating!
Fuck niggas, hahaha!
It's, It's, It's that old Joe!

Hey yo, I can't lie
Spent a few years trying to understand why
When, how is it now I'm so anti
Face asked if you've ever seen a man cry
I think before that shit ain't even pan right
So I don't look at rap dudes like you fans might
Rude, true it's skewed I got a slant eye
With God as my security guard that's why
I'm walking around feeling like I can't die
Or I'm feelin' like opportunity ran by (me)
And I'm chasin' it or am I facin' it
(NIGGA) No past, I'm erasing it
I'm an addict got a habitual habit and I don't avoid voids
Good at substitution replacing shit
I'm just trying to find my place with shit
Pacing quick I ain't go no patience with
Niggas that can't speak they mind
What the fuck they got a mouth for?
Me, I'm so full of rage so used to being caged
I probably shouldn't be outdoors
Everybody so scared of the truth
Look in my eyes you stare at the truth
They doing interludes and every interview
Talkin' bout they're prepared to shoot - bom, bom
How thoughtful, won't resort to gettin' near a booth
They awful what I do to them unlawful
Boss dude ain't got a higher up to resort to
Just giving yourself a bad name
Yackidy yack the threats in fact is that lame
You can't tell that acts arranged
Think I'm wearing a bulls eye
Just all them cats got bad aim I'll explain
I'm past real they past phony
Ignore the personal and physical attacks on me
I remain cool relaxed homie
Brand new I ain't got a scratch on me
So what your squad gonna do
Lay a hand on me I'll lay a hollow on you
Change hands tap his pockets run his wallet on through
Every club in New York nigga bottles on you!
Better tell 'em what reluctance is
I'm controlled by uncontrolled substances
Truth be told, I'll show him what substance is
Know I'm nice but when I boast I'm only rubbing it in (NIGGAS)
Got beat up ignored in school
Signed a deal niggas thought you was cool
Only take one quarter to slaughter your crew (SLAUGHTERHOUSE)
If your resume got deaded today they'd call you a fool (HOW BOUT THAT)
All them years rapping, nothing else happening
You need a new day to day
Old heads in the game with no other way to get paid
Gasping timeout take a break from the play or grab a Gatorade
Bad contract team can't make a trade
Majors fucking you in the ass you gonna stay a slave
5'9" in my ear saying, "Hey, behave!"
But shit is fucked up and I blame it on the way it was paved
I chill for the sake of your age
You great live but let me know when that stage get appraised
All in raising the stakes
Swear you and your label should pray
Thank God I was placed in this decade by mistake
I don't belong here dad fucked mom in the wrong year
Wrong peers amongst niggas with wrong ears
Wrong dancing funny sounds every songs weird
Wrong fashion its like everybody's gone queer
Be clear I ain't here to be friends
You can dislike me I ain't here to pretend
Run but you can't hide I can't lie
Told niggas in the first two bars I was anti

Oh!
Leave me running!
Joey!
No wonder, wheres an escape route when you need it?
Talk to 'em!

Joe Budden

Joe Budden is from Jersey City, New Jersey. He was born in Spanish Harlem but lived in Queens until he was 12 and from there moved to Jersey City, New Jersey. Budden is one of five boys (one older brother and three younger brothers – two are twin brothers). Budden heard music in his home (his father is a multi-instrumentalist) and on the streets while he grew up.

He is also one quarter of Slaughterhouse, alongside fellow rappers Royce da 5’9”, Joell Ortiz, and Crooked I.