| Said, what it’s like?
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| Joey Bad' and Chuck Strangers
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| Leave niggas endangered
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| It’s the real, yo, what’s the word word?
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| Pass the herbs—check
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| My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind
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| I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines
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| Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I’m slight sober
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| Ma, you ain’t that girl at giving throat so bye
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| F it, I’m bipolar, took shorty to the backroom
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| Play charades, she actin like a vacuum
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| Showed her to the door before the afternoon
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| She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she’ll be back soon
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| Fake MC’s get their reps ruined
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| Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed
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| Click-clack-boom, resurrecting boom-bap from the tombs
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| Raps dope like crack in cocoons
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| Back in this mood, back on the move
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| It’s the motherfucking real, nigga chill act cool
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| Pay respect to the cat Drew
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| And I’m way too blessed to be throwing shots at you
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| Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest
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| Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era
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| I’m tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life
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| Just remember home boy there ain’t no free way to life
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| My nigga it’s gon cost you, try not to lose your soul
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| To the rims, hoes, and gold
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| Cause once the devil grab hold, that nigga ain’t letting go
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| And I’m far from religious, I just know right and wrong
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| I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs
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| I know how to rip thongs and I’m pretty good at beer pong
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| Nigga, I’m so crazy, nigga I’m loco
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| Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor
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| Bitch we out the door, vroom vroom, skurrt
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| Bitch love don’t live here no more
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| Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag
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| Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down
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| Heard this song and turned around, now she want me to unzip her pants
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| But I’m gone, bitch missed her chance
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| Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest
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| Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era
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| Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest
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| Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era
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| I got sick of class, started making classics
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| Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses
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| I’m sure to blow like bust acid
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| Puff, assist like Maravich, a true Maverick
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| And I average above average on an average day
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| Doing bad shit bet you still can’t pass this
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| And his teacher still pass him
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| Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons
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| Like fuck trigonometry, I’m trying to multiply monopolies
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| Subtract some homies then divide the cheese
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| Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the E
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| Shit on you hypotheses
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| Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes
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| You can’t stand here unless you pay a posture fee
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| Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave
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| A pile of G’s for apology
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| Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers
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| Leaving niggas endangered
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| Danger, danger
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| Joey Bad leaving niggas endangered |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song FromdaTomb$ , by - Joey Bada$$. Song from the album 1999, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп