Joey BadASS - FromdaTomb$ lyrics

rate me

(Go Brooklyn)

Said what it's like?

Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers

Leave niggas endangered

It's the real, yo what's the word word?

Pass the herbs

Check

[Verse 1: Joey Bada$$]

My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind

I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines

Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight so pa

Ma you ain't that gold at giving throat so bye

F it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom

Play charades, she actin like a vacuum

Showed her to the door before the afternoon

She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon

Fake MC's get their reps ruined

Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed

Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs

Raps dope like crack in cacoons

Back in this mood, back on the move

It's the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool

Pay respect to the cat Drew

And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you

[Hook]

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era

[Verse 2: Chuck Strangers]

I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life

Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life

My nigga it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul

To the rims, hoes, and gold

Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain't letting go

And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong

I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs

I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong

Nigga, I'm so crazy, nigga I'm loco

Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor

Bitch we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt

Bitch love don't live here no more

Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag

Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down

Heard this song and turned around

Now she want me to unzip her pants

But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance

[Hook] (x2)

[Verse 3 : Joey Bada$$]

I got sick of class, started making classics

Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses

I'm sure to blow like bust acid

Puff acids, like Mav, a true Maverick

And I average above average on an average day

Doing bad shit bet you still can’t pass this

And his teacher still pass him

Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons

Like fuck trigonometry, I’m trying to multiply monopolies

Subtract some homies then divide the cheese

Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E

Shit on you hypotheses

Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes

You can’t stand here unless you pay a posture fee

Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave

A pile of G's for apology