Move On lyrics

by

Joe Budden


[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]
No I don't respond with answers that fit a script
So the repetition will make a n*gga flip
We in the game of smoke and mirrors
Those engineering a bigger spliff
Blowing circles out they mouth getting praise but the sh*t is shift
I never lived a myth, if I said it I did it
Never alleged, word to dead I gripped a fifth
I made my housing tenement a strip, moving medicine in nicks
When I seen them coming I jetted from them pricks
And still to this day, though she clean, I wish my mommy never sniffed
But the hurt is making me better with this gift
I'm live with this ink, you could die in a blink and
Y'all got the nerve to ask me why do I drink and
Motherf*ckers, sometimes I cry when I'm thinking
Y'all ain't there when them tears being dried by the sink
It was cold in the winter, my community centers who gave me dinner
I ain't mind, my table chairs gave me splinters
Set up to be a loser but was made to be a winner
If they paint Hip-Hop I bet my face be in the picture
If they wrote a rap bible, bet my name be in the scriptures
If shorty say I'm her idol, bet her face be in my zipper
I came a long way from the staples in my skrilla
Stains on my pants hardly had a cut
The ladies ain't want to dance so house parties would suck
All my friends on the wall, I'm in the hall with a cup
Nah I ain't complaining, just telling y'all what it is
So if y'all going through it now just know that another kid
Made something out of nothing - well I'm fronting, I was never nothing
Older ladies used to tell my mother "Ain't he something?"
I look at a lot of you cats and laugh
Cuz I'm the sh*t, man, and y'all ain't even passing gas
When I spit, I'm the definition of mastered craft
And all y'all ask about is Aftermath
Motherf*cker move on
[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
I got to give my own interview
Since n*ggas that do my interviews focus on whatever's miniscule
And paint me as a cynical
But the canvas will limit you, you can't go beyond what there's no limit to
If I think Hip-Hop is dead I think it's being revived
And that comes from me being inside
Where the demons get by, see them goodbye
If I'm vehement here's why
Come from hearing it and seeing venomous lies
So the beast in me cried cuz when it's all you hear
sh*t can overbear just when the over in air
So I try to think straight cuz when you stare in the rear
Rest in peace Stewart Shakir, n*gga yea
I'm on another label, not that other label
That mean it's no longer my problem, it's theirs
Some say it's a conspir'ce
I say if everybody's on the throne that's just more motive to kill the heir
Ask me about 'Pump It Up' and I'm a think you sheep
Oh you must not know I'm deep
I'm so off of music so y'all can soundscan every week
Me? I just got my little man every week
Jersey City loves me despite y'all beliefs
Cuz they was baby stepping, I showed them how to leap
Ask me about swag
I'm a change the topic to lyrics and then brag
Plus look at you like a fag
I love everybody, don't ask about who I beef with
They burnt the bridge but they was standing underneath it
I'm on my grind, Benjamin hunting
Was old since I was young, call me Benjamin Button
Stop using slang just for you to be cool
Cuz I go back to when it was cool to be you
I'm a hero, no I mean I'm Hiro from Heroes
Y'all chase zeros
Motherf*cker I just got finished hating me, feeling like a zero
They played De Niro, never been there though
So before your next thought, understand
Know it's much more to me than a man
Either that or move on
[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]
My rhymes a reflection of Scarface and Prem's soul
Before Jordan was wearing four five
I just look like this, I just seemed old
But I had to bleed the blood of a dirty motherf*cker
To suffer clean clothes and touch what a king holds
The real estate market is harsh, everything goes
From foes to who you was doing everything for
But I cut them off and move on to the new checks
New friends chasing my new ends with new threats
Watching my dreams fold like a stack of bills
In the pocket of who ain't trying to push up daffodils
But we the super group, you couldn't handle this sh*t
If you were standing before us carrying the pooper scoop
You dealt with shady sh*t? I dealt with shady sh*t
But I'm the only one can truly say I dealt with Shady's sh*t
I mean that with all respect to Paul and Shect
But Ryan and Marshal is all you get
My flows superb, I love Pauli Rosenberg
What I say in a track those just words
Baby boy forgive me, I'm just street
Cuz I can change into anything n*ggas want me to be like Mystique
I don't got to dig deep to realize
Slim bought Big Proof a big jeep
Because he deserved it, how can I mourn
The same way Shady did over him when he knew him when he attended Osborne?
Marshal I'm sorry, I knew it went left
I ain't into f*cking my family like incest
If you remember ice used to be my life's interest
Tell Hailey my wife just had a princess
Since I made up with Em there's nothing else
That I can move on from so who wants some
Like a jar of Grey Poupon
You have to ask anybody in any car
Want it? Or move on
[Verse 4: Crooked I]
When fans picture my interviews they think I'm in a swimming pool
With women who've been abused
So they turn into strippers making they living in the nude
One in the middle blowing my inner tube while the interviewers getting ridiculed
Is this your vision? Cool. Let me give you a little jewel
Any dude who want to sit in my tennis shoes is missing screws
Don't get it misconstrued, don't get this sh*t confused
I'm two seconds from prison food, I'm a different dude
Pistol in my reach, man, still in Long Beach, man
Hoping if my grind don't help me get out, my speech can
I been in the streets longer than Yao Ming's wingspan
You can be MTV, I'll be C-Span
I deal with politics, bandannas and hollow tips
Half you rappers follow this, role models can swallow di*k
Was stressed out over cash flow
Hip-Hop used to console my soul, now it's a bunch of as*h*les
Rap about a dance while I'm targeting cops
Spit some sh*t for Oscar Grant, hit the sergeant with shots
Make him a +ghost+ like he part of The Lox
I won't stop recording till I'm making songs harder than Pac's
If it don't happen, at least a n*gga know he right there
Every memory under my Dodger hat's a nightmare
As a kid I had to steal breakfast
And now the best question you have to ask me, "Is this a real necklace?"
"Where's your beat from Dre?" "Your feature from Cube?"
These things leave people confused
Cuz they know I leave speakers abused, I eat the EQs
I eat through the beat, what's the secret? I think it's the shoes
Back in Cali, n*ggas blaze and stress
Waiting on Detox to save the West
Even if the sh*t is dope it ain't giving you n*ggas hope
Unless your signature's wrote on the check from Interscope, nope
Move on
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