Joe Budden – Where I’m From Lyrics

[Verse 1: Joe Budden]
[?] not New York, but dudes get stabbed
Get shot like New York, niggas get robbed
Get got like New York, but they don’t make the news
‘Cause it’s not New York
Hope you heard me, boy, look, I’m from Jersey, boy
Where it’s still half off that [?], boy
I was driving, shotgun was Ike when that faggot on the bike
Rode by and tried to murk me boy
But chill, here’s the head crack, I’m an O.G., I don’t [?] that
[?] you nah mean?
[?] tools gon’ flare
In a society if you nobody then actually who’s gonna care?
They won’t call your next of kin, I’ll make your family aware
And the whole hood is dipped up so having sanity’s rare
I’m from where embalming fluid ain’t stop yet and city hall’s primary project
Is knocking down the projects, they ain’t finished that yet
See, I’m from carjack central, niggas’ll go in your ride
While you pick up the Jersey Journal, “Damn, so and so died”
I’m from where the dope game is bad, so every hustler can’t hustle
Tryna hustle [?] rapper
[?] a young nigga with a few bars to say
‘Cause nigga, rap’s the new wet, weed, and yay
I’m from where [?] had it locked ’til dude had him shot
For everybody to see and everybody was relieved
I’m from where the blocks is dark [?] with ya gun cocked
And the hospitals will fuck you up worse than a gunshot
From where screws is loose, gunpoint dudes strip nude
And that ain’t even half of New [?], nigga

[Ad-Libs: DJ Clue]
O-oh, o-oh
[?]
[?]
[?]

[Verse 2: Stack Bundles]
From the last stop on the [?] train where the youngun let his thang bang
We shoulda left the two [?]
Where the skies is great ’cause no stars around
[?] was the last star around
Home [?] in the street
Fourty niggas [?] fourty-first side piece
Where Edgeman, Raw P, and Redford [?]
Get your shit [?] no gettin’ it back
We’re from where bitch niggas go to jail and turn thug, and (what else?)
Crip niggas go to jail and turn Blood, and
Niggas come home, flip a lil weed
End up with barbershops and music stores with CD’s
[?] niggas on seventh was gettin’ it [?]
[?] their own workers [?] uncomfortably
Where they argue ’bout whose fuckin’ whose broad
Or whose drivin’ what cars [?] niggas hatin’ like he got that [?]
Where old heads [?] gettin’ it [?] kept gettin’ robbed
So they wanted out the game and converted to God
Where niggas play the corners ’til they pecks is done
And out-of-towners come to blam blam the cannons and run
From the other side where Queen’s niggas don’t come through much
The record exec’s wouldn’t sign us, said we’d done too much
So they ran over to Brooklyn and thought [?]
I don’t know what the fuck they thought, them niggas [?] just like us
[?] the streets get the best of you the beef’s inevitable
[?] half price, [?]
[?] the soldiers fall and thugs we are all
I’m from [?], son, just thought I’d remind y’all

[Chorus: Stack Bundles]
[?] shit’s thorough [?] son
Ain’t nothin’ nice (nothin’, nothin’)
[?] shit’s thorough [?] son
Ain’t nothin’ nice (nothin’, nothin’)

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