Released: December 15, 2007

Songwriter: Joe Budden

Producer: WMS Sultan

[Intro: Sample]
It's five o'clock, I'm just getting home
Roaming on my own
What can I tell her
That she might understand?

[Verse]
The soundtrack to my life is like CNN first shit
Images like CNN but worse shit
I would down the whole Pinot Gris
But I'd see the group home without the Primo beats
And it hurts my soul
I'm a warrior so though the odds is against a nigga, Dirk gon' choke
Some people confide in the person that they sleep with
I've learned there's no such thing as a secret (oh)
I can't describe the feeling I get
You was riding shotgun, I was wheeling the whip
Shit, I even let you rock out, being Bill Belichick
Tapin' from the sidelines, stealin' my shit
But dawg, you was like a mini me, mocked me, envied me
Turns out you was blowin' hot air, Kenny G
But you was cool, accepted you instantly
Not a groupie but you had a few tendencies
And though we share a few memories
Couple wrong turns'll turn a friend to an enemy
See, phony people like phony people
Even you could be mistaken if you phone these people, look
When you invite the nerds to the cool table
Shit is bound to break up like a pool table
So wack dudes'll start feeling like the shit
And you thinkin' it's you, it's really where you sit
Or maybe you was neglected
'Cause when you take the front down and strip a nigga naked, he's dying to be accepted (oh)
I did that, just the way you was
Now you a stranger, nothing like the way you was
But uh, you not real, you not Rachel
You not Worm, you not Dill, shit, you not chill
I thought you had some couth
Fuck the fake shit, I'm really feel that you tryna screw me

And you a little smarter than the average dude
So it took a nigga just a little longer to see
They tried to warn me, fought with my girl erry night about you
Shit only hurts cause she was right about you

She run around wanting to shoot you the fair one
I keep telling her "chill, I don't care none"
I got another side I never showed to you
The side where everybody is disposable
See, relationships are never a threat
Cause I'll erase the history and act like we never met
Become done giving a fuck and done calling
I got your e-mail, I was done way before then (oh)

Dear Diary, I don't wanna keep shit inside of me
I'd rather just speak to you privately
Maybe it's my mood, as far as I can see
There's really no point in having this guy with me

Change from the days of us getting in your truck
It's bigger than one song, it's bigger than a buck
It's bigger than me, bigger than buck
Bigger than voodoo, its bigger than luck, shit, it's bigger than us

I always call niggas fools for wanting to learn the hard way (when)
When I'm really the fool for tryna teach 'em
When the blinds leading the blind you can't reach 'em
If niggas ain't as hungry as you then why feed 'em?
Niggas ain't tryna be lead then why lead 'em?
Having big problems with your dogs, why breed em?
I'll keep my part up, keep my guard up
Was like Thundercats but changed faster than Cheetara

This a small part of a larger issue
Sometimes acceptance is so hard to get to
But we all equal, no one lower or above me
I love my team just as much as they love me
If not more
If I turn the knob we all going through the door, I ain't coming back for y'all
The whole crew feel the same as me
How could you ignore something so plain to see?
I'm being ig'nant, that get on my nerves every minute
What's plain to some is really Burberry printed

Being so real sometimes is a slow kill
We was one squad, you broke out like Mike Schofield
I want fillet mignon, you want oatmeal
Add up our differences equals up to no meal
No mills, yup, no deal, why you gotta chase sh*t
To know it's no thrills, for real

A nigga still beefin' with his baby momma (BUT!)
Only thing my baby ain't a baby no more
Hit her on MySpace, maybe she ain't shady no more
Sent old girl a message, no reply but she read it
Some things are so embedded and our heads is
Looking for O's but get X's, dealing wit ya exes
I was one long line away from the Tetris
She sent me the L, that sent me to hell

To the point where I’m denied my son
I don't see him, don't talk to him, I don't greet him, don't walk wit' him
But I pay for him like he's an object
No matter how right I am, in court I can't object
Dear Diary, how could she deny me?
How she go to bed without it fucking with her psyche?
Is she wrong using him so I can come back? (or)
Am I wrong for wishing I could get my cum back?
Looking for sun, all I see is the hail
How I'm gon' trust? All I see is betrayal
It's like they keep trying more and more to subdue me
And only you understand, signed by yours truly

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.