Get No Younger Lyrics - Mood Muzik 3: The Album - Joe Budden

[Intro - Joe Budden - talking - w/ ad libs] 

Uh, it's that knock right here 

Uh, y'all in that mood yet? 

Taha, you need a subo to play this in the car by the way 

Let's go 

I'm a be quiet, let homeboy say what he gotta say 

Get his little shout outs out the way 

Goin, goin, gone 

[DJ On Point - talking over Intro (echo)] 

This joint right here is called Get No Younger 

Featuring Ezo 

Shout out to The Klasix on the beat 

Dave, Mike, I see you 

Joe Budden, Mood Muzik 3 

Let's go 

[Verse 1 - Joe Budden] 

Now look, I'm in that 550 feelin like Chuck Liddell 

Aside from Rampage Jackson it's "fuck the world" 

My lean came so mean, So Fresh and So Clean 

Like a Sunday morning listenin to Joel Osteen 

Like my beat down low, I'm rimmed up with the seat back 

Boo with the sweet back, I definitely need that 

Even if her body make a nigga want eat that 

Bitch you don't Make a nigga Better, better see Fab 

I know a bird named Amy, love to tea bag 

Set you up right for some loosies and a weed bag 

Alcoholic, cute face but her weave bad 

And she went to the Winehouse straight from the Rehab 

The recap rappers and they G stacks 

Fixated on imaginary ice like freeze tag 

I speed past, ease past with my G swag 

I'm at a level most niggaz couldn't see past 

[Chorus - Ezo] 

On my grind, chasin dollars (chasin dollars) 

In the fall or the summer (fall or the summer) 

Streets are pullin me under (pullin me under) 

And I ain't gettin no younger 

[DJ On Point - talking over Chorus (echo)] 

Shout out to Paree 

Jill, Grimstyles 

Can't forget Jay, what up? 

[Verse 2 - Joe Budden] 

Whoa, whoa, some say "sky's the limit", still I'm tryin to reach higher 

So on my deathbed, I'm figurin how to be fly-er 

I'm talkin above heaven (but) 

But talkin about death is me beatin a dead horse and a nigga love "Slevin" 

I'm a '80's baby with a '60's mind state, Yankee fitted backwards 

Lookin at whippersnappers 

Livin young and reckless, never mind who the best is (might as well) 

They need to get rid of their style, put it on Craigslist (nigga) 

'Cause you ain't crazy, stop it 

Even if you was wild like Randy Moss, start feelin Patriotic 

How I'm gon' lose with Tom Brady in the pocket? 

Beggin dude to come back like the Yankees did "The Rocket" 

And just like Clemens did 

Reappear to get the most wins it in, damn dickheads is so sensitive 

Pussies get hemorrhages, find a way to benefit 

Even when it seem the whole World is against the kid 

[Chorus] 

[Verse 3 - Joe Budden] 

Whoa, I mean, the burner's in the air (is that what you want?) 

Like J. Holiday I'll put you permanently there 

It's Bedtime niggaz, weapon of mine niggaz, Wesson or nine niggaz 

"Minority Report", I'm ahead of your mind niggaz 

You wanted to beef, you got twenty with you, I got a hundred with me 

Now this is somethin to see (oh) 

Boogieman your whole squad, put you under some sheets 

In that Dodge Richard Reid had under the sheet 

On some Jetsons shit but if the shook type approach me 

I'll fill 'em with metal 'til he look like Rosey 

Niggaz ain't off the hook like Joey 

My feet is up cozy, at the end of my bed 

Get on my Puff Daddy All About The Benjamins shit 

And turn my back on Danja/danger like Timbaland did (ya heard?) 

Hoodie over my head, the snub showin 

Fuck what the World's come to, where the fuck's it goin? 

[Chorus - without ad libs] 

[Outro - DJ On Point - talking until the end (echo)] 

Shout out to my nigga Trees Bland 

Bland Management 

Shout out to Phat Gear down in A-T-L 

Can't forget Hall of Fame, Coliseum, Jamaica Ave.