Released: July 13, 2015
Songwriter: Joell Ortiz
Producer: !llmind
[Intro]
Yeah
If y'all know the voice by now then
Fuck it though
Ayo !ll
Never mind !ll
This shit'll speak for itself
[Verse]
Glory, hallelujah, let me sock it to ya
Houston we have a problem, I'll send rockets through ya
Get out of pocket, the DE Ndamukong Suh ya
Word to Stuart Scott, there'll be a whole lot of booyah
I never paid attention to the grape vine
He say, she says y'all bullshit, it ain't mine
I'm listening to bass lines, tryna create rhymes
That'll have you stuck like weak signal Facetime by the 8th line
Flow out of this world, I'm in a different space
Consistent chase for this paper, just bought a bigger safe
Ain't got the guap to shop and cop that heavy wall art
But I could buy one of everything in any Wal-Mart
I flex verbs and connect words till checks worth
Should see how many highs my neck blurs when my chest curves
Real estate, I stayed the realest and invest merch
Then bank on ill production and build some of my best work
Niggas think they got it locked, but I'm just sitting back
I don't David Sweat it, their bars weaker than Richard Matt
I get e-mails from the greatest rappers with shit attached
Ghost write crazy, I dance in all my spirit raps
That's why I'm caspering in the Aston on my way to Aspen
Pull down my pants without asking and an actress gagging
A fan said he can't wait 'till I blow up
But I feel fully blown, I'm like magic when I show up
Liquor disappear, bitches stare, niggas swear
But my goons off the hook like fishing gear when 'em blickers flare
Handguns that split a deer, choppers that lift a lid
And sound like M.O.P ad-libs for 30 minutes, yeah
I'm feeling like niggas don't rep my town right
Turn this shit loud, this what New York 'posed to sound like
Next time I'm doing radio and I'm around mics
I'm spitting 97 on a Power 105 night
Guess I'm not one of them niggas who sold a mil twice
But I'm alright with being the last nigga that's still nice
No private flights to Coachella overseas
Just a couple Honey Yaowas and yelling in S.O.B's
Tearing the fucking stage up, long as they bring my name up
In convos bout who flame up and everybody could say 'yup'
I'm waaay up, I feel blessed
Feel like I got a S on my chest under a vest
That could withstand the devil's best, I confess I'm nothing less Than a dorm room desk, I'm a mess, come clean me up
And I put you where I put all the rest, yeah, take a guess
I walk around with this shovel, possessed, I'm in the flesh
To the naked eye, you heard us bugging, I'm a third coming
Jesus, the creator or not
'Till I lay in the sky, say goodbye, I'm on my favorite high
(What's that?) Watching y'all niggas faces when I say shit fly
I'm made to never be debated, why?
To remind y'all that I'm truth in music's lamest times
Glory, hallelujah my people, feel like I'm
Speaking in tongues, my tongue should be hung in cathedrals
Yo, I'm having fun with this needle, I'm dope
Feel like the pope mixed with one of The Beatles, I hope
Y'all recognize what y'all witnessing
I reckon y'all start listening, no cracking the whip
And stop telling me that real rap will be back in a bit
Cause this shit had never left, y'all just cross-dressing, acting a bitch
Y'all weaker than a THOT's new flip flops
But I'm just sharing thoughts here on Hot New Hip Hop
Yeah
If y'all know the voice by now then
Fuck it though
Ayo !ll
Never mind !ll
This shit'll speak for itself
[Verse]
Glory, hallelujah, let me sock it to ya
Houston we have a problem, I'll send rockets through ya
Get out of pocket, the DE Ndamukong Suh ya
Word to Stuart Scott, there'll be a whole lot of booyah
I never paid attention to the grape vine
He say, she says y'all bullshit, it ain't mine
I'm listening to bass lines, tryna create rhymes
That'll have you stuck like weak signal Facetime by the 8th line
Flow out of this world, I'm in a different space
Consistent chase for this paper, just bought a bigger safe
Ain't got the guap to shop and cop that heavy wall art
But I could buy one of everything in any Wal-Mart
I flex verbs and connect words till checks worth
Should see how many highs my neck blurs when my chest curves
Real estate, I stayed the realest and invest merch
Then bank on ill production and build some of my best work
Niggas think they got it locked, but I'm just sitting back
I don't David Sweat it, their bars weaker than Richard Matt
I get e-mails from the greatest rappers with shit attached
Ghost write crazy, I dance in all my spirit raps
That's why I'm caspering in the Aston on my way to Aspen
Pull down my pants without asking and an actress gagging
A fan said he can't wait 'till I blow up
But I feel fully blown, I'm like magic when I show up
Liquor disappear, bitches stare, niggas swear
But my goons off the hook like fishing gear when 'em blickers flare
Handguns that split a deer, choppers that lift a lid
And sound like M.O.P ad-libs for 30 minutes, yeah
I'm feeling like niggas don't rep my town right
Turn this shit loud, this what New York 'posed to sound like
Next time I'm doing radio and I'm around mics
I'm spitting 97 on a Power 105 night
Guess I'm not one of them niggas who sold a mil twice
But I'm alright with being the last nigga that's still nice
No private flights to Coachella overseas
Just a couple Honey Yaowas and yelling in S.O.B's
Tearing the fucking stage up, long as they bring my name up
In convos bout who flame up and everybody could say 'yup'
I'm waaay up, I feel blessed
Feel like I got a S on my chest under a vest
That could withstand the devil's best, I confess I'm nothing less Than a dorm room desk, I'm a mess, come clean me up
And I put you where I put all the rest, yeah, take a guess
I walk around with this shovel, possessed, I'm in the flesh
To the naked eye, you heard us bugging, I'm a third coming
Jesus, the creator or not
'Till I lay in the sky, say goodbye, I'm on my favorite high
(What's that?) Watching y'all niggas faces when I say shit fly
I'm made to never be debated, why?
To remind y'all that I'm truth in music's lamest times
Glory, hallelujah my people, feel like I'm
Speaking in tongues, my tongue should be hung in cathedrals
Yo, I'm having fun with this needle, I'm dope
Feel like the pope mixed with one of The Beatles, I hope
Y'all recognize what y'all witnessing
I reckon y'all start listening, no cracking the whip
And stop telling me that real rap will be back in a bit
Cause this shit had never left, y'all just cross-dressing, acting a bitch
Y'all weaker than a THOT's new flip flops
But I'm just sharing thoughts here on Hot New Hip Hop
Joell Ortiz x !llmind popular songs