Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dear Diary, artist - Joe Budden. Album song Mood Muzik 3 (The Album), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 08.10.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Amalgam, Stage One
Song language: English
Dear Diary |
It’s five o’clock, I’m just getting home |
Roaming on my own |
What can I tell her |
That she might understand? |
The soundtrack to my life is like CNN first shit |
Images like CNN but worse shit |
I would down the whole Pinot Gris |
But I’d see the group home without the Primo beats |
And it hurts my soul |
I’m a warrior so though the odds is against a nigga, Dirk gon' choke |
Some people confide in the person that they sleep with |
I’ve learned there’s no such thing as a secret (oh) |
I can’t describe the feeling I get |
You was riding shotgun, I was wheeling the whip |
Shit, I even let you rock out, being Bill Belichick |
Tapin' from the sidelines, stealin' my shit |
But dawg, you was like a mini me, mocked me, envied me |
Turns out you was blowin' hot air, Kenny G |
But you was cool, accepted you instantly |
Not a groupie but you had a few tendencies |
And though we share a few memories |
Couple wrong turns’ll turn a friend to an enemy |
See, phony people like phony people |
Even you could be mistaken if you phone these people, look |
When you invite the nerds to the cool table |
Shit is bound to break up like a pool table |
So wack dudes’ll start feeling like the shit |
And you thinkin' it’s you, it’s really where you sit |
Or maybe you was neglected |
'Cause when you take the front down and strip a nigga naked, he’s dying to be |
accepted (oh) |
I did that, just the way you was |
Now you a stranger, nothing like the way you was |
But uh, you not real, you not Rachel |
You not Worm, you not Dill, shit, you not chill |
I thought you had some couth |
Fuck the fake shit, I’m really feel that you tryna screw me |
And you a little smarter than the average dude |
So it took a nigga just a little longer to see |
They tried to warn me, fought with my girl erry night about you |
Shit only hurts cause she was right about you |
She run around wanting to shoot you the fair one |
I keep telling her «chill, I don’t care none» |
I got another side I never showed to you |
The side where everybody is disposable |
See, relationships are never a threat |
Cause I’ll erase the history and act like we never met |
Become done giving a fuck and done calling |
I got your e-mail, I was done way before then (oh) |
Dear Diary, I don’t wanna keep shit inside of me |
I’d rather just speak to you privately |
Maybe it’s my mood, as far as I can see |
There’s really no point in having this guy with me |
Change from the days of us getting in your truck |
It’s bigger than one song, it’s bigger than a buck |
It’s bigger than me, bigger than buck |
Bigger than voodoo, its bigger than luck, shit, it’s bigger than us |
I always call niggas fools for wanting to learn the hard way (when) |
When I’m really the fool for tryna teach 'em |
When the blinds leading the blind you can’t reach 'em |
If niggas ain’t as hungry as you then why feed 'em? |
Niggas ain’t tryna be lead then why lead 'em? |
Having big problems with your dogs, why breed em? |
I’ll keep my part up, keep my guard up |
Was like Thundercats but changed faster than Cheetara |
This a small part of a larger issue |
Sometimes acceptance is so hard to get to |
But we all equal, no one lower or above me |
I love my team just as much as they love me |
If not more |
If I turn the knob we all going through the door, I ain’t coming back for y’all |
The whole crew feel the same as me |
How could you ignore something so plain to see? |
I’m being ig’nant, that get on my nerves every minute |
What’s plain to some is really Burberry printed |
Being so real sometimes is a slow kill |
We was one squad, you broke out like Mike Schofield |
I want fillet mignon, you want oatmeal |
Add up our differences equals up to no meal |
No mills, yup, no deal, why you gotta chase sh*t |
To know it’s no thrills, for real |
A nigga still beefin' with his baby momma (BUT!) |
Only thing my baby ain’t a baby no more |
Hit her on MySpace, maybe she ain’t shady no more |
Sent old girl a message, no reply but she read it |
Some things are so embedded and our heads is |
Looking for O’s but get X’s, dealing wit ya exes |
I was one long line away from the Tetris |
She sent me the L, that sent me to hell |
To the point where I’m denied my son |
I don’t see him, don’t talk to him, I don’t greet him, don’t walk wit' him |
But I pay for him like he’s an object |
No matter how right I am, in court I can’t object |
Dear Diary, how could she deny me? |
How she go to bed without it fucking with her psyche? |
Is she wrong using him so I can come back? |
(or) |
Am I wrong for wishing I could get my cum back? |
Looking for sun, all I see is the hail |
How I’m gon' trust? |
All I see is betrayal |
It’s like they keep trying more and more to subdue me |
And only you understand, signed by yours truly |