Wrong One [explicit] Lyrics - Joe Budden

Let's get some shit out to the forefront 

Better not talk behind the store front 

You motherfuckers picked the wrong one 

Big mistake, I think you niggas made the wrong one 

These niggas talking about burners like we don't own those 

Blasting this fully automatic, that's soul drums 

You motherfuckers picked the wrong one 

Big mistake, I think you niggas made the wrong one 

They say if money didn't change you, you ain't make enough 

They say if you ain't down to bust then never say it's tough 

Got a black bitch with a body, name her Nina Skill 

Don't do the back and forth racket, but Serena will 

There's some couple rules I'mma share with you two 

Know, niggas gon' hate you for whatever you do 

To let it off you gon' need a right hand and the right wrist 

And using the beam mean there was a chance that you might miss 

A nigga wanna send me a message, have it delivered to me 

Ticket on the coupe, sheriff ain't even give it to me 

They want me killed, I'm ready for it 

Means I've written my will, so I'm ready for it 

But I'm real so be ready for it 

Cans and Desi's for sport 

Camouflage and the cameras, some batteries, we ramming doors 

We ain't amateurs at all 

I flew but said my mans in the accord 

That's tha plan moving forward 

Til' I learn to get these hammers on board, dawg? 

Let's get some shit out to the forefront 

Better not talk behind the store front 

You motherfuckers picked the wrong one 

Big mistake, I think you niggas made the wrong one 

These niggas talking about burners like we don't own those 

Blasting this fully automatic, that's soul drums 

You motherfuckers picked the wrong one 

Big mistake, I think you niggas made the wrong one 

Tell them bitches they can all come 

Three ain't mind sharing as long as I get them all to cum 

One was an alcoholic, I swear she was drinking all the rum 

Two live together Uptown, but be on Fordham some 

Scooped them from the Bronx, in a small bed and breakfast fam 

What was ironic was these bitches couldn't put egg to pan 

[?] thing got naked to tan 

Or maybe to skinny dip but she ain't wanna wear the pants 

I mean I pulled up to the block, swore I was never Neverland 

Hard wood all over the crib, stepped in the middle and 

Gave her the "I've been missing you"-dick, she never left again 

Now the bitch depressed again, I don't need the stress again 

Steal from Rage might as well send it back 

I got shooters everywhere, where you gonna spend it at? murder 

Still a reason they made the dress code 

Figure I ain't wanna spread bloodshed on nice clothes