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Joe Budden - Dessert For Thought lyrics
(feat. Styles P, Pusha T)
[Styles P:]
 Dark forces, get on the level
 Cause you might see an iced out cross on the Devil
 Illuminati and Masons, what are we facing?
 See you at the crossroad, that's Vacation
 Shit is like Fright Night, get you a Night Light
 Two blunts, Zeitgeist, remind me it's Christ like
 Now niggas wanna look like women
 Tight pants, costume jewels
 I guess their CEO might bend 'em
 God bless Pac, but they ain't got thug like feelings
 God bless Big, but they don't know the every day struggle
 I keep it thorough, everywhere I'm bubbling, you bubble gum
 Chew you up, spit you out, nigga, cause I'm troublesome
 And if they lyrical then what the fuck am I?
 The maker of miracles, every couple of lines
 Parallel lines in my soul in my mind
 Make the jewels unfold every time of the rhyme
 Use respect, and I'm spectacular
 Audio fucking up your cardiovascular
 Lyrically spit shit, flip like a spatula
 Married to the game, and you just a bachelor
 SP and the Mouse in this bitch
 And I want it quiet as a mouse in this bitch
 Burn you in your car and your house is the shit
 Don't ever say you hard if I ain't bout for the shit
 [Pusha T:]
 It's like a never ending story, I'm here for my glory
 The engines too loud, these haters can't ignore me
 Feeling like a legend, anyone that came before me
 Drug dealer, posing all this mother fuckin' jewelry
 Came from the crack house, back room, black out
 Smoke hit they lungs, make 'em UFC tap out
 No plan B, it was nothin' else to map out
 So we throw stones while we living in this glass house
 It's been a minute so they ask where the fire went
 My kitchen clean, but I still got the Pilot litJoe Budden - Dessert For Thought - http://motolyrics.com/joe-budden/dessert-for-thought-lyrics.html
 Made a fortune outta fumes, my Mcguiver shit
 Reality TV, before Survivor bitch
 Yuuuck, put our lives on display
 Who's thinkin bout tomorrow we ain't promised today
 This rap game fickle, we ain't promised to play
 The last of the greats, pay homage to me
 [Joe Budden:]
 If my past had a encore, it be like a onslaught
 A lot of niggas died, it's too many to mourn for
 I'm thinkin bout my youth, us as little kids
 Am I wrong for having thoughts Bishop Eddie would long for?
 I got decade old wounds that are still bleeding
 That chapter of my life is closed, yet y'all still read it
 Straight face on, pretending to feel decent
 Casket shopping for a loved one that is still breathing
 Swear that shit got in the way of Summer
 Avoiding calendars, since all your days were numbered
 Laid out in the bed, can barely sit up
 Those were your last breaths, I was mistaking for hiccups
 Y'all don't get the picture, when your medicine is liquor
 I'm talkin phone ringing, being too afraid to pick up
 I know you in a better place and that joy is felt
 I learned when death calls it won't leave a voice mail
 You would be proud, I'm due to be caked up
 Wanna make your dreams come true? Gotta wake up
 Groupie niggas I don't see how you deal with it
 Broke and starving, but clinging to your Meal Ticket
 Broke hustlers debate that trash
 Back and forth to they vacant stash
 Still in all I know a few that'll make that cash
 Quick flip, even Rex Ryan ain't lose the weight that fast
 Y'all should treat me like royalty
 Last of a dying breed that puts money and power behind loyalty
 Careful, that bitch shit'll rub off
 Me, I'd rather die with my balls than have to live with 'em cut off
 Long winded, be patient enough to hear 'em
 I'll give you the jewels if you brave enough to wear 'em
 But know before you swallow it up
 Food for thoughts only as important as what'll follow it up








