We Do It For Fun Pt 3.5 Lyrics - Singles - Tha Joker

At first I was okay, and then I was just straight 

Hit myspace and hoes fell in love with my face 

Upped my vocab and then ya boy got nasty 

Flow on overdrive, now these niggas can't pass me 

Creme de la creme, who him? Nigga him 

J-O-K-E-R is on top like a chim but 

No santa clause, we grinchin round here 

Even white hoods love me, no legend round here 

Messages on myspace like Joker you good 

It's cause I always go off like ADT in the hood 

Yo flow shake but my flow is straight seizure 

I run a lot of shit like nickel magnesia 

You should be high, Joker smokin like reefer 

But niggas sleepin on me, icksnay (pig latin) anesthesia 

Room guns, berettas, I am known to burst 'em 

Leave a nigga stankin like overexertion 

To all my haters... fuck 'em, curse 'em 

I drop so many hits, other rappers call me worrisome 

Plus they try to steal from my book of rhymes 

Now see, that's straight pussy like the March Of Dimes 

It's obvious, like we all know Marsha fine 

Fuck the game missionary, I'm on top of mine 

If you not my clientele, you can't even get the weed sale 

Trust no nigga like a heart broken female 

Co-ed FTE to the hotel, she shall receive a lot of beats 

Like my mutha fuckin g mail 

Bitch BYOTCH, money is nuthin 

Only reason you don't know cause Forbes don't acknowledge hustling 

Joker's mediocre, everybody else is hotter 

Someone's in hell drinkin on a glass of water 

Dope boy magic, kitchen harry potter 

I help move weight, title of an exwatter 

I'm on the grind just like dry humping raw 

Nigga I'm surprised I havnt caught something 

Girls suck nonhesitation no delay 

Famous dick, I'm a sell my pubic hairs on ebay 

Want the highest bider so I can get with her 

First well drink, and then I'll split her 

Then we do the do, hell yea I did her 

Now I'm done with her I'm a let JR hit her 

Then be a friend, introduce her to my boys... 

She's gonna need an altoid 

Hit the club 17, plus my ID void 

Came home with a lot of hoes and my thoughts paranoid 

J Cole tell 'em I ain't never been a busta 

If real was a disease, I'd be a dead mutha fucka 

I make so much money so savin ain't my plan 

And I blow so much cake that the candles don't stand 

Ice hang to my cock, damn near at my leg 

So bitches gotta bobsled just to give me head 

El Presedinto, dance for me why don't you 

Call the bitch my new car I left a lof of bills on her 

Awww skeet skeet I won't for saint pete 

I'm tryna blow up big like Aretha's peak 

I got hoes on deck, I want want want 

And I fuck it so much that I'm nonchalant 

Currency problem, money, mula 

Dollars make all hoes holla like booyah 

Shillings, doubloons, pounds, pesos 

No teardrops cause it's killers on my payroll 

I can smell pussy like I used to work at Catos 

Weave kill in packs, real boy wear a halo 

See we know that she goes, so no need for egos 

But you tries and lost like when Shack shoots his freethrows 

I'm Michael you Tito's, you rappers just freeloads 

Part two let the clip go and three is a reload 

I'm gone leave a stain on the game just like Cheeto's 

So it's gone go my way like I was Carlito 

So fck what the plan say, I do me no veto 

I'm gone show my black ass like I was in speedos 

But I am the teacher, let me sit at my desk, so 

I can school this rap game, it's hop scotch chess, and I'm 

Leaps jumps, and bows all over the rest 

Last line no punchline, I AM THE BEST