Dumb Out

Joe Budden

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    It's stuck between platinum and flop, underground and mainstream
    Concious, backpack, scratch that, same thing
    I'm somewhere between the real and the fakeness
    The red pill, blue pill, real and the Matrix
    And I can't take this
    If the game needs a new look, I'm a do a tummy tuck and a face lift
    And everything I say in these pages
    Is straight from the heart, nah magazines, y'all can't rate this
    But I'll be debatin it, it's a bit outragous
    Like it's an air virus, and this shits contagious
    I'm downloadin like niggaz actually play this
    Maybe I'm buggin out, maybe I'm on a spaceship
    See I was on my stay out chill shit
    The way Mouse kills shit, I'm here just to lay out real shit
    Besides, other dudes styles remind me of spinnin rims
    That shit got played out real quick
    See some wrote him off, some said he was done
    Made a joke of, hope he enjoyed the run
    I don't enjoy bein shunned, so I'm back as Neo
    Fans enjoyed The One, annoint me as begun
    I had the whole hood thinkin' he would never eat
    Rappers tried to diss, thinkin' we would never meet
    I heard it if you said it
    You wrote it on online then I read it, now I match it nigga bet it
    Cause I remember clearly
    Once "Pump It Up" stop soarin, there's a few mother fuckers stopped callin
    See I remember shit spread like cancer
    I would call folks said, folk ain't answer
    A few chicks runnin started pullin they pants up
    A few stopped actin like my private dancer
    But a lightbulb hit once they started the neglictment
    See there I was, thinkin' I was all that sexy

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    Can't be finished, what nigga I beg ya pard'
    I just let niggaz get a head start
    I walk to the finish, y'all spread out chase
    Nah spead out pace, and I'll still win the race
    See I'm joggin
    Other niggaz legs starts wobblin, when opportunity is start knockin
    You got the crown, pass off like Stockton
    It's time to work, I'm offically clocked in
    He is a problem, weavin and bobbin'
    Through the speculation that his label tried to drop him
    I can't leave, even though it's big options
    Kev only signed me, to keep this shit rockin'
    Don't ask me how I'm doin, I been better
    Stuck in cold Feburary, with a thin sweater
    I'm far from a "YES" man, I'm a trend setter
    It's no games, just a Def Jam Vendetta
    Don't put niggaz in the same sink as me
    I mean metaphors, storylines, deep shit, club shit, girl shit, world shit
    They don't use to ink like me
    Niggaz don't even think like me
    Who sees what I'm watchin, he ain't poppin'
    Don't deserve to drink water from the tub that I washed in
    WAIT, start again, it's a privilege to breath the same air that I farted in
    They want no parts with him
    I dare niggaz catagerious me
    If my names on a mixtape, then capitalize me
    I been stopped goin' to Mixtape Awards
    Don't need them to tell me, the mixtapes is yours
    I had other ideas, while hittin' loot
    I'm thinkin' red carpet, I went and copped a suit
    See I'm thinking Grammy's
    Sunglasses on, with my On Top family and a bad bitch handy
    Each day there's a "W", it felt like heaven
    I'm at an actress's house, that felt like neckin'
    R&B on, looked and felt like Meagon
    Gave me headache too, I felt like an Excedrin
    Talk very fly
    Least until I baught every pie, me bein' war readys in my eyes
    And these dudes might as well be Jamie Foxx
    Trying to sound like somebody that already died
    The kid keep a snub wit 'em, good pair of gloves wit 'em
    Your first week ain't right, they can't fuck wit 'em
    Now if you don't sell 5 mill, they had enough of 'em
    Let me find out Hip Hop's turnin' Republican
    I'll sum it up to what he is about
    Still new to both, they still feelin' him out
    Things were type blam, Joey seasoned him out
    I'm the nicest dude out since "Reasonable Doubt"
    Say it ain't so
    Rest In Peace Luther, there's some other niggaz gay on the low
    So live, who can see 'em, no guy
    I'm the Mets, was suppose to be ill in '05
    As ill as the flow gets, need a piller don't snitch
    So if you can't tell, I'm prepared for '06
    About to OD, anybody that know me
    Can tell you I'm bout to make shit feel like it's '03
    More like '99
    No names should be mentioned but mine, unless you talkin' Big Pun in his
    prime
    Maybe '96 Jay, before Dame was throwin' money around
    Or 2pac without Humpty around
    Or 50 before Em, Nas talkin' like a gun in his song
    Cam'ron during "Children Of The Corn"
    Beans before the cops came through and try to grill 'em
    I'm talkin '95, Big L before they killed 'em
    Em before 8 Mile, Shyne before the deal shit
    Canibus, no album out before the L shit
    Talkin' bout Kiss, DMX when he was fuckin' wit coke
    Or Cuban Linx, with Raekwon and Ghost
    I do it all, who blendin' so well in the game
    Talkin' Fab, back when he was still spellin' his name
    On my Diddy shit, Memphis, Grizzlie shit
    Like back in the day when Clue swiped all of Biggie's shit
    Rappers don't need trouble with I
    Unless it's Rass Kass before the D.W.I
    Or Talib with Mos, Common before "Be"
    If they any less common, don't put 'em before me
    See, I'm not a rapper, I'm a prophet
    Tell Joe stop it, skill will speak for you, don't pop shit
    Fuck jail, I'm on my payroll cop shit
    I call that bootleg cable, it's no box shit
    All black, lookin' grimey in the crowd
    Heat on him, no shirt, don't try me when I'm out
    I toast somethin' tiny that'll blauh
    Ain't gotta see Paul Wall, if you want somethin' shiney in your mouth
    I probably fool cats, cause I don't ride out in some big car
    In the streets, like I ain't some big star
    And these young mother fuckers, is about to fuck up
    Like leavin' they whole career in some bitch car
    No name, but it's no sublime
    Nigga you know who you are, I'll end it before it goes too far
    Your buzz still fucked, you a liar money
    Joe's still spendin "Pump It Up", "Fire" money
    Glock for hire money, don't try to mug me
    Call ass cap, maybe be at mines for money
    Please, what's wrong wit 'em, somethin' ain't the norm' wit 'em
    Ain't too many dudes out there, out performin 'em
    Some require these skills, I was born wit 'em
    Street's askin' what's takin' so long wit 'em
    Jump Off, I'm the best to happen
    He's the answer, the who's got the next in rappin'
    I suggest you ask 'em
    If Hip Hop is all smoke and mirrors, then I'm the Windex and a napkin
    New dudes is whack, some vet's is has-been's
    Some were Top 20, till I crept right passed 'em
    It's a wrap, Joey sealin' it nigga
    Cold out, Long Johns still dealin' it nigga
    Still peelin' it nigga
    If I only get 'em two times, just know it was the dilinger nigga
    It's that music, don't know how to act music
    Gettin' my Kanye on, puttin' out "Crack Music"
    Car jack music, out what they lack music
    Send my little man, get rid of the pack music
    That I'm back music, that click clack music
    That A-Team, Muggs, that Fab and Stack music
    Now who said they fuckin' with me
    They just said that fuckin' with me, they didn't mean it (NAH)

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