Songtext Control Joe Budden

Control

Soul of a 70's number man, I can throw a curve underhandAnnotate
This for the streets, not Summer Jam
This ain’t for the fans that wanna hear pop and snap
Drunk off Ciroc and the Yak, all y’all can watch from the back
This ain’t for self proclaimed legends that nobody wanna hear from
Scared? get a gun, come to peers, I got none
This ain’t for bandwagon fans sit y’all asses in the same spot
Y’all the same niggas made Trinidad Jame$ hot
This ain’t to Kendrick Lamar, the nigga Kendrick got bars
I heard his shit and wasn’t offended at all
And as it played I heard him say I wasn’t mentioned with y’all
Joell started it, only right I finish the job
So all that shit is revocable, from an overview
Only thing noticeable is how he barely gave me any quotables
I state facts, not to say it’s wack but check the playback
Outrhyming A$AP ain’t showing me where your weight at
I’m on my shit today, you the king of New York
You might as well had spit on Biggie’s grave, couldn’t let that slip away
I’m in the court of public opinion, ready to click and spray
Light Jay Elec ass up, that’s my Exhibit A
Bitch kill my vibe is what you wanna get into
Drown em all in a swimming pool, full of phlem and drool
You renting jewels what’s with all the fascination?
So when I ask you ’bout it that’s my cross examination
This a scrimmage to me, all these blemished MC’s
Infamously it’s about image I see
But if it’s bars, not about bread, to hell with the wealth
Put you inside of the bullet, just to see a shell of yourself
I mean uh, since rap has been accessible, they action been regrettable
This is what the net’ll do
Chick sending message to tricks ain’t get to see ‘em
They ain’t even artists and they get paid per diem
We talking bars, then this whole conversation changed
Fuck all the subliminals now nigga saying names
Some of these OG’s I laugh at, y’all don’t know me to half ass
To me it’s just one Joey that’s bad ass
King of New York, my nigga stop it 5
Keep it funky Drake washed you twice
Tell me Tyler that fire with saliva? I reply don’t bring a lie around
Run up on Meek with the silencer, nigga quiet down
Then ride off with his intro playing
Cause I get hype to that shit dog I ride to that shit
With nightmares, I wanna be at the root of em with the mag off
Know he love Philly so I’m leavin’ him with Black Thoughts
You talking bars niggas better get help
They put they guts all on the track, still they never get felt
Lot of lower tier rappers tryna rep for they belt
Nigga it’s levels to this, dog you said it yourself
But check it, when it comes to control, I might of lost a bit
Law abiding citizen style I’m coming for all of it
Running in your studio engineer that recorded it
Yes men that supported it, any blog that reported it
Any artist he tour with, snuff whoever bought the shit
Whoever thought of it, his mentor whoever taught him it
Interrupt with a sneeze, hiccup, fart, even cough or lick
If I got it twisted you coming to contort the shit
But the irony, y’all all inspire me
Y’all in a spot a lot of us aspire to be
We just striving my G, tip my hat so y’all know it’s real
Fuck whoever mad, you said how we all suppose to feel
I know the game, some’ll try to get amped
You push the envelope, some of us provided the stamp
Predecessors wrote the letter, others sealed it shut
Some was nice without the percs, before Amil got touched
It’s Hip Hop, should blame on the mic these niggas hands on
Shades that they wear in the club, couches they stand on
You mixed credibility with dead ability
Raise the bar like you on par with this level of agility
Old UNLV Runnin’ Rebel artillery, with Augmon at the 2
What sparring y’all wanna do?
Get to arguing with a Spartan, play it cool
I heard them alien voices, I’ll knock the martian up outta dude
Separate the beast from the timid, it’s hip hop
Fuck if your car is lease or rented, at least you in it
Foaming at the lips, looking like the yeast in women
Don’t be facetious most of y’all been a feast from the beginning
This is for B.I.G., Suicidal Thoughts, Coogi printed
This for Nas, army jacket with the uzi in it
Not no Shiny Suit shit, this that 92 Knicks
This for Hov’s missing 92 bricks
For State Prop and Beans, to when the L.O.X. first burst on the scene
For Queens, Pac and even Idi Amin
This for the Mobb and the purple tape, word to Inspectah Deck
This ain’t for the labels nah, Wu said protect ya’ neck
This ain’t a diss, I don’t want it to get spun wrong
And this for Big L, the block that Joe found Pun on
This shit is for Stack, I ain’t talking a G
Nigga I’m talking a G!! My nigga talking on me
This is for every living rapper ever walked in these streets
And any outsider that happen to think that a portion is sweet
Niggas been killed for less and got a coffin for free
If you ever been in the hood, I think we all should agree
This for every nigga that took what you said in stride
I couldn’t abide, some of us still take pride, check it
Limbs’ll get crushed, hip hop’s adrenaline rush
Men’ll get touched, so if you feminine hush
Project benches I trust, came from syringes and dust
So who you named shouldn’t be mentioned with us
But wait, at least half of em’, other half rapped around
Dual clips that wrap around, gather every rapper ’round
See what happen when niggas try to go toe to toe
This what happen when you let a blood bath overflow
Used to do lines, how could they wanna go blow for blow
I could overdose and still drag you niggas comatose
This is lightweight, put the bucks up
Cause if we talking bars lot of y’all should shut the fuck up
This is lightweight, put the bucks up
If we talking bars lot of y’all should shut the fuck up