Making A Murderer Pt. 1 (drake, Jay Z & Meek Mill Diss) Lyrics - Joe Budden

I'm right here per your request, now you stuck in them shoes 

No alliances with Meek, it's still fuck him too 

Before we start, to the fans, I'm uncomfortable too 

Stuck in the booth feelin' like y'all 'cause I got love for the dude 

But now my phone blowin' up, they're like what I'm gonna do? 

Show the world you shouldn't poke a man with nothin' to lose 

All of this just because I wasn't in love with his Views 

Whatever happened, I just know they got me fuckin' confused, hey 

Mic check, mic check 

One two, one two 

Wait a minute! 

I'm happy, I'm honored, I'm, I'm, I'm honored to be around you, man 

Yo c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon 

Okay so I can't be honest on your network here? 

I can't be honest to your fans and say I'm honored to be around you? 

It ain't an honor to be around me! 

We all used to listen to you so I don't even, you need to learn how to take compliments. 

Don't say that in vain, he's one of the best. You know that, right? 

What up? What up? 

I said don't say it in vain, you know he's one of the best 

Nah it's all love 

Look, enough of the sentimental crap 

Cool if you into that 

Fuck all of these subs, who they intended at? 

I won't believe it's me without forensic facts 

They don't normally mention Black when pennin' their raps 

But then I listen back, I heard a pinch of sass 

Tender ass Teddy come around, he gon' get pinned to grass 

I come around with every inch of the mag 

I'm a wordsmith forreal, you thought Quentin was bad 

You made me proud, lad, but it seems my child mad 

With all the clout that he grabbed, it's still doubts from his dad 

Look, this ain't promotional, you just emotional 

No doubt you got Starbucks, all that Joe in you 

I part his reign lightnin' fast, just what Joseph do 

A black cloud all over the 6, check the overview 

You're so indirect, shit wasn't real clear 

Either Jimmy actin' or he really miss a wheelchair 

What he don't know is we the most kindred of souls 

I should've did this two Kendricks ago 

He wanna sing? Well let's get into the show, commence my role 

For Jodeci, Boyz II Men, we at the end of the road 

I figure he's that close to his death to know the reaper 

In fitted sweats with old sneakers, the flow ether 

Gassed 'cause he KO'd Omeeka, no Joe's deeper 

Quick to put extension on singer, that's Moesha 

Nothin' 'bout Rick slick, but show of the Caesar 

My crust from the same old pizza as Mona Lisa 

So how you callin' out the lyrical god? 

Your face light up when you see me, talkin' Miracle Watts 

'Cause your words ain't sayin' a thing 

I kilogram without weighin' a thing 

Nigga you baitin' a king 

Tell you the way that Golden State say to it's team 

Aubrey you gotta make a shot, you wanna play on the wing 

Dem a call me a murderer 

Dem a call me a murderer 

I never duck, just spray 

I'mma never miss mi aim 

Dem a call me a murderer 

There's some truth in that saying 

Dem a call me a murder 

Nobody seen nothing, nobody seen nothing 

What I see, ayy 

Look here, I just spit the facts, raging aristocrat 

Shooters heard them words, wanna get rid of that 

When they roll up, bet dude won't wanna live his raps 

He'll see the 6 upside down and wanna switch it back 

Wrath of a god sinner 

I'm too real, I bet your star tender 

I bet a mil', I'll bet a star tender 

But since the OG's Hov, here's what I wanna know 

If ain't no real niggas allowed the fuck would I wanna go? 

That's thinkin' back to Jay, now let's get back to Drake 

Both too big to respond to all I have to say 

Still with all their success and all their accolades 

The universe makes it so they come right back to me 

Here's a reminder that we go way back 

I mean um, you know for me the kid is practice, Hova 

I make these words flip as if they practice yoga 

Okay practice over, back to Blacklist Hova 

Nothin' personal, this Red Reddington 

Shawn, I don't work for you, still I'm doin' the work for you 

Payback, wire his jaw, reimbursin' you 

Metal all behind his face, Sprite commercial you 

Might have made a mistake out of this one 

Can't Bell Biv Devoe your way out of this one, nah 

So, warn your damn campaign that hammers rang 

I just bought a New Edition, you can't stand the rain 

Y'all say this soft nigga hard and that, I can't explain 

Y'all think he's soul for real, I see candy rain 

So Aubrey when you sub real MCs, you get murdered 

And since you signed to five guys, makes you a burger 

Dem a call me a murderer 

I never duck, just spray 

I'mma never miss mi aim 

Dem a call me a murderer 

Nobody seen nothing, nobody seen nothing 

What I see, ayy 

I'm from the school of pussy don't get me punch drunk 

Maybe it's different in the city you come from, look 

I'm from the school of these hoes belong to everybody 

No celeb exempt, goes for everybody 

So when I seen you fucked shorty, not a bitter bone in me 

I ain't think of how to handle the plan 

Said I'm aware, have fun, understand that it's fam 

Told that to you and not her, that's just the man that I am 

My nigga, kids got no respect 

Odd 'cause you called me for the hoe check on every hoe you checked 

That makes sense, bad bitches, that's what Joe do best 

And I's the man 'round these parts when they ain't know you yet 

Which kinda makes me your OG in Toronto 

And I ain't charge once, that's for free in Toronto 

I'm unsure how that came to be in Toronto 

Nigga I don't even be in Toronto 

When it rains it pours 

All that means, dog, get please get a poncho 

Subs fell short like a free throw from Rondo 

So rude, he gay, so mean with all the Budden threats 

As soon as we shoot at King, Demarcus Cousins' next 

This shit is truly a movie 

You started a trend bein' a groupie for groupies 

Me I, shoulda had Bria in the coupe and out her way 

Before you ever wrote an interlude about her 

So who you playin' with, clown 

I'm first shift at the bars, so only means I already made them rounds 

They say that he the best MC and best flow'er 

He cook better than me but you love my leftovers 

Fire the kill shot, the fire still hot 

Word to your Versace velours that Kyra still got 

You playin' chess with the chrome of the pump 

Let it blast, checkered past, shoulda known from the jump 

It's whatever you wanna roll, executives got your soul 

Sedatives, I'm repetitive with those records, show for 

Regular Joe, sellin' records was never the goal 

I never sold records, I kept records of what was sold 

Might have made a mistake out of this one 

Day's long, can't Trey Songz your way out of this one 

So don't worry yourself, and before I go 

Fuck a record label, I appear courtesy of myself, it's Joe