Featuring: Ransom

Producer: DJ Pain 1

[Verse 1: Ransom]
So many praying that Ran fell, you can't tell?
These people expecting Heaven but never could they withstand Hell
I Die Hard like Bruce Willis and Samuel
Sipping Champale and party harder than Manziel
Vodka and tonic got me thinking like Prophet Muhammad
I'm not an Islamic I'm a product of copping narcotics
I'm hot as a comet, hoes give me top til they vomit
Something exotic, Carribean, Dominican goddess
The shit is symbolic, powerful performances
Bars made of 24 karats, so fuck the choruses
Huh, niggas know I'm raw with the rhymes
Cause I'm known to off sides with these offensive lines
Leave em lost in the Vines, you thinking it's social media
I'm thinking it's deep in the jungle with hopes of leaving ya
Slitting ya throat and bleeding ya, you ain't got a chance to live
Smoke a nigga wig off, leave em just like a cancer kid (damn)
I know that I'm a little insensitive
Grew up kinda poor, we barely had any cents to live
Now it's Peter Luger's, cutting up an expensive rib
Cursing out the bums, cause I ain't got any cents to give
They saying I'm not the one
I leave em full of clips like the moon blocking the sun
When these goons cocking they guns, they don't even see the car
Roll around the mud in fatigues like I'm in Vietnam

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
Ya nahmean
Jersey's front court
Vietnam, I know
I'm gonna talk about it
Parks is Parks for a reason
Right here? Beautiful, look

I'ma need those fatigues since I'm out here like a bounty
Traded the green jumper they gave me when I hit county
Nah, I'm sorry, I need my pilot seat
I say that speaking from the clouds, these are pilot [?]
Probably why these model bitches wanna ride with me
If I can't say it publicly, then I won't say it privately
Just how real I could spit it, it's whatever you wanna bet
A nigga got a few million in liquid
Gotta stop son from peeling that biscuit
We'll always have more to lose dog, it's just a feeling I live with
With this one side bitch that'll mourn me if I let her
So don't call me for whatever but a orgy or better
I'm just standing on the ceiling they told me I'd never meet
Took the pop out ularity, in spots you would dare to see
God could take mine right now, let it be painful
Cause every dream a nigga ever had came true
Shooting 100 from the field, just a path I create
They told me I could never have it this great
So even with a million motherfuckers grabbing my legs
Still knock the barrel down so the crabs can escape
Made believers out the fakes, was Caesar to the apes
For niggas that wasn't sure that we would see another day, Joey
Self-employed, so if I'm on that island by myself
Self-deployed, don't help that boy, I'm good

Ya nahmean
It's simple
Simple shit
Just logic
Just talking logic to em
One and one make two
Joey

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.