[intro: joe budden]
welcome to the 40/40!
there’s an age limit and dress a code.
no 80 year old rappers…
and no muhf-cking… wallet chains and tight pants and colorful f-cking shirts!
and don’t come naked though, hahahahah!
[royce da 5’9″:]
that motherf-cking beef ain’t new to us! (whoooo!) get off my computer nuts
before i go freddie foxx from the flavor unit bus!
plus, you know my la costra nostra
i stretch a n-gg- out like he rosa acosta!
nope, you blew it! — i’m a boxer i could mop a lame
“oh, let’s do it”! i hit you with the waka flocka (flame!)
i don’t need backing, so there’s no need for shady (uh-huh!)
there’s no need for police, your homies, your lady! (hoe!)
we can lace them up, paperview, however you wanna do
and then donate all the proceeds to haiti! (whooo!)
your man’s major!
i keep a hitman with me that done took more people than fantasia! [gunshots] (uhh!)
i’m bonkers, i’m cuckoo! i’m beyond gonzo (cuckooooooooooooooooooooooo!)
the rocket launcher is like part of my ensemble! (hahaha!)
on top of that — i got n-gg-s in boston who got my back
and later on -ssist me like rajon rondo! (whoo!)
so f-ck peace!
the day i quit beefin’be the same day i grow a hangnail on my b-ttcheek!
my momma got fangs, my daddy got ducks feet!
i was genetically predisposed to f-ck freaks!
i’m like my n-gg- joe b.!
i ain’t worry about the win as long as i get the girl in the end! (girl in the end!) (hoe!)
y’all n-gg-s be dead, if looks could kill
my money taller than y’all; y’all spending bushwick bills,
and y’all ghetto! (and y’all ghetto!) – squeezing — you weak when i spark metal (whoo!)
you leaking, therefore you’re squeaking to falsetto!
my sh-t is nothing like you heard before
get it, right? my sh-t is knocking like our words be doors!
we can fight! (hahaha!) — that’s right, put your dukes up
and let you fist pump – like you on the jersey sh-r-! (jersey sh-r-!)
paranoia is my normal activity, i ghost you!
have you seeing “paranormal activity”? i roast you!
when he rhyming (whoooo!) off the pa-tron! – you might wanna keep trying!
he will burn you like penny’s mama offa good times!
i fly and sh-t! – but grounded like the gaza strip!
but let’s be honest, i’m surrounded by a thousand t-ts!
i claimed the town before i give you lames the crown
you’ll get it soon as snoop gains a pound,
hahaha! – we too vicious, plus we got pits in the back an’
“dirty money” like them two b-tches puffy jacked! (whooooooo-aaaahhhhhhhhhh!)
livin’ off interest! – stock exchange!
but i’m watchin lames whos interest is wallet chains!
what part of the game is this – bunch of d-cks in the studio
so i take mine elsewhere, i’m rick rubio!
homie make sure you speak to me sober
one in the head – heat in holster don’t care if you cross
country! (yeah!) – i’m there before the weekend’s over
and you’ll be (you’ll be!) swingin’ at the air – no wii controller!
but i don’t care to speak on chrome
hard to not live a movie when you got theater seats at home!
no wonder she wanna chill, seat back with her friends
she seen when i dump boo i let her keep that benz!
d-ck got ’em actin’ like they on a relapse binge!
start kickin’ my door down like i don’t need that hinge!
the realest to ever do it, he a must in the game (game!)
if you don’t get the picture then readjust the frame! (talk to ’em!)
it’s simple mathematics, einstein!
learnt to walk a fine line off that battle sh-t, it’s grind time! (grind time!)
rap for hire! call me if help is needed!
i got this whole sh-t covered – darrelle revis! (aaaaaaaaaaggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!)
so if you lookin for me,
i’m relaxing with a bird on h-ll’s kitchen, asking for dessert! (‘ey, ‘ey!)
so when i’m recordin’ dummies become nonimportant
they think the book of eli was written by tom coughlin!
i ain’t with the trash talkin’, that’s distortion! (that’s distortion!)
m-ss extortion! – all of your raps is appallin! (n-gg-!)
want see me dead?
i’ll invite ’em to the funeral and they can keep the stains off my gl-ss coffin! (gl-ss coffin!)
yep it’s joe, irregular flow!
if your ones ain’t gayle king right next to a “o”!
it’s not a thing, just lie! be the next to blow
i don’t need a private jet, just a window seat, exit row!
and if i decide to peel arms – i’m interrupting
with no pardon! – i ain’t mike wilbon!
from day one, he just speak his mind
cause looseleafs don’t come with subt-tles, can’t read between the lines!
but think anybody on your tv be
in your top of elite three, then see see me!
5th gear! – we kickin’ up dust mothaf-cka! (dust mothaf-cka!)
we only competin’ with us mothaf-cka! (flocka!)
[outro: joe budden]
hope everybody had a good time out there!
no entry allowed if you got the fake diamonds on neither!
you can fool the b-tches, you can’t fool us!
the light hit it different!
make sure there’s f-cking laces in your shoes too!
not all the funny sh-t with the straps!
we ain’t 5, aight?
and bring a notebook!
learn something n-gg-!
you f-ck of a f-ck n-gg- you!
you a un-f-ckable f-ck n-gg-, man!
who’s your f-cking hair stylist?
don’t talk to me if you got a hair stylist!
better have a barber!
happy new year!
we only exuding positive energy!
one more thing… check it!
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! [echoes] [beat stops]