Joe Budden Give Me Reason Lyrics

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Whoahhhhhhhhh, whoa
Ladies and gentlemen, you now rockin with the best
(Geah) Jersey City, stand up
Patterson, stand up
Off top.. Just Blaze!

[Joe Budden]
Hold up *****, slow up *****
Don't start a war unless your dough's up, *****
Know what *****? Joe's up *****
y'all shouldn't cry about it, grow up *****
Guess what y'all?  I know magic
I could make your pulse disappear and no hat trick
Death threats - it ain't phase me
When I bring the T-Mac through the Rucker y'all, it ain't Tracy
Sewed up *****, low cut *****
So keep talin bout your wrists froze up *****
You might see 30 whips roll up *****
We be at the pawn shop givin your Rol' up *****
Just wanted to make that known, you seen _New Jersey Drive_
Round here, leave that Maybach home
Before we vick that homes, we be on y'all jerks
You'll find out the hard way if your On*Star works, cause

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I don't, need a reason to bust my guns
So don't, give me reason to bust my guns
You might, be the reason I bust my gun
(Pa-pow, pa-pow - pa-pow, pa-pow)

[Joe Budden]
'Til my day's up *****, stay up *****
Play Tony Montana, get your face cut *****
That goes out to all of you play thug *****z
How you want it, long nose or the trey snub *****?
Return and die dog, if I start clappin in your crib
Nah I ain't tryin to turn the lights off
Trapped on the chain, got the jewels and cape
Be like Jared, Subways made him lose his weight, but look
I'm bout gettin money for all races
Only oldie but goodie I know is small faces
Wait, make you sure you heard right; woulda been put the hit out
But I ain't tryin to get my third strike
Lace up *****, say what *****?
Your Maybelline raps that you make-up *****
Wake up *****, stakes up *****
For all my locked-down and my cased-up *****z, cause

[Chorus]

[Joe Budden]
Who's that *****?  New cat *****
Don't disrespect, don't do that *****
Hate to hear the sound of the tool clap *****
Dual strap ***** when I do black *****z
First hand with a three-eighty kickback
Brains on your lap dog, babysit that
Look, it's my turf, get up off the stoop now
I'm Omar Epps, who got the "Juice" now?
Street love *****, G's up *****
You lookin for a loan on your re-up *****
Haters might want to put hollows in ya
When you're young black spendin like a lotto winner why'know
I'm grown up now, I'm done with Jake
When I say pounds y'all I'm talkin bout London cake
I can serve it to you uncut or somethin baked
Hope you ready for me folks, cause I'm comin your way, cause

[Chorus] - fades out


Written by: Joseph Anthony Budden, Justin Gregory Smith
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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