Murder lyrics - Joell Ortiz
[Intro]
Oh yeah, it's him again! {"Joell Ortiz"}
Y'all know the voice
[Chorus: Gangstarr sample]
Always bless you with a new joint, shit you never heard
I need a place to lay low bro, cause this one is murder
[Joell Ortiz]
Check; cool as a fan, fresh as a new leather
The new member in an argument of who's better
The cool cheddar keep it New Yorican
In a hoopty gettin brain from a chain on the Major Deegan
The haters speakin, never mind playa
The block ex-crack dime shaver turned best rhyme sayer
The candy chewer, Laffy Taffy over Life Saver
The orgasm every time, that's what the pipe gave her
The gutter dweller, never nice neighbors
The sour mixin with the Jack Daniel's to give it nice flavor
The back in the days type gamer
The used to hate Super Nintendo nigga that used to like Sega
The clawed his way in the door rapper that's like Vega
Never killed nobody, in that booth he's such a life taker
The every other night somebody else's wife scraper
The nigga makin veterans look like a 9th grader
[Interlude]
You goddamn right I'm that nigga {"Joell Ortiz"}
[Chorus]
[Joell Ortiz]
Uhh, the talk of the town, clown when we in the party
Karaoke sing on the low but yo don't tell nobody
The never had nothin, now he doin hella cocky
The haters vomit from the smell of papi
The low caesar with the sharp parts
That might fiend on the scene with sixteens gettin green like a golf cart
The beef lookin at the rest of y'all like Pop-Tarts
Verses got y'all frownin up y'all faces like my mom's farts
The N.Y. repper, don't dare side-stepper
The casual dresser, low whites, light sweater
The bike revver on a summer day
The give the DJ so much heat they don't know which one to play!
The E-1 gunner, used to be up under Trey
Finna drop crack and not look back like a runaway
The have fun every time he in the booth spitter
The take on anybody, old nigga, new nigga
[Interlude]
Y'all think it's a game?
I ain't playin! {"Joell Ortiz"}
[Chorus]
[Joell Ortiz]
Uhh, the truth in the purest form
The frontliner, first nigga to shoot when the war is on
The hop on your beat and cruise like the Autobahn
and force radio to play my version of all the songs
The diddy bopper in the city proper
The walk up in the strip club and throw it up like a shitty vodka
The used to be a butt man turned titty clocker
The hop up in the bed and beat it up kitty boxer
Okay, the occasional kitty licker
Only if her box is the shit, kitty litter
The good swimmer, Caribbean beach feet dipper
The Rican whale size of three Flippers
The flow stronger than the current in the winter in the East River
The poker player, top pan with the mean kicker
The hip-hop light, when it was in its darkest hour
The can't do a song without at least one YAOWA
[Interlude]
This ain't gon' stop brother, heh {"Joell Ortiz"}
{"Statik Selektah!"}
[Chorus]
Battle Cry lyrics - Joell Ortiz (feat. Just Blaze)
How many times I gotta tell y'all I'm second to none.
No magazine's top ten cause I'm negative one.
So I don't pay attention to them dumb folk
Cause I'm a always be in first like the clutch broke
I'm from where the cut-throats cut coke
Cause school ain't cut it, they cut out the puff smoke
And guess what?
That's who I hang with, so when you speak INDUSTRY - I don't know the language
But play the beat and I'll show you why I'm head honcho
Ya'll gettin' away with murder like the white bronco
Bunch of trash inbetween hooks
Bars too cute to be gettin' all these mean looks
Put the hottest rappers all on one stage together
See who'll hold their arm up like Che Guevera
I rhyme hotter and I say it better
I'm a winter cold war
I'm a product of the Regan Era
Day thinkin till the page inkin'
My 16 free ya'll I'm hip-hop's Abe Lincoln.
Fam I don't know what they thinkin
These niggas got me fucked up like I spent all day drinkin
I'm a boss not a loss yet
You're little lemons in a race with a souped up corvette
I'm so hot I could stand still and pour sweat in the North Pole fully naked with my balls wet
I'm a monster, these other niggas small pets
Claim they sick but they get cured by your dog's vet
I'm thorough from my Yank' to my gourtex
You're bluffin, I play Poker I'm callin all bets
Local boy, when's the last time you all left?
I don't even know where the FUCK I'm goin' on tour next
Last month Canada, before that? Europe
I had Waffles out in Belguim, you ain't had Syrup
Every time I write it's another flight
Another whore with my kids on her underbite
Another "YAOWA!" chant when I touch the Mic
Another Magazine spread, yeah you fuckin right
I'm on my grind like a pair of in-line skates
Get on tracks and go banana's like a Primate
Baboon, Gorilla, Chimpanzee, I'm Wild Ape
King Kong under your skin, I'm bout to Sky-Scrape
But the sky ain't the limit
I could teleport through my mind any minute
Take you to a place where the Lions go "ribbit"
All the frogs "roar" and the fire is frigid
I'm outta this world - don't belong here
What heir'ing the thrown if I taught you from a small chair?
Family, you niggas got it twisted
Flow out of the box, yours chicken and a biscuit
Gave me chicken pox when I listen, I be itchin' to cripple your career like a ligament is missin
Dawg I'm on a mission like an intimate position
When I swing it's Knock Out's I ain't gettin' a decision
From here on it's locked ya'll a prisoner to spittin
Can't escape my bars no visitor's permitted
Welcome to Hell where Joell holds a pitch-fork
And you burn in eternal flames for your bitch talk
Dick in my hand I'm pissed off
But I ain't bucklin', 'Everyday I'm Hustlin' - Rick Ross
One day the whole globe will know I'm Clark Kent
Underneath the shades on a Project park bench
Superman when I grip the Mic
The only way I'm slowin down is if I blow a pound of Kryptonite
From now on I'm a bully I'm a pick the fight
Let them pick you up off the ground when I check ya bite
You'll become a little memory, gigabyte
Me and these beats got married, I'm Mr. Right
Little man you spit aight, I'm on fire
You gotta little buzz - Miller Lite
Man there's so many words runnin' round my brain
If I don't put them on a track I would go insane
Maybe that's why everything I say is crazy
And everyday I wake up, with a naked lady
With a V.I.P. band on my right wrist
Pants on the flow, J.D. with a slight sip
Left in the bottle tele-key on the night stand
I go to the bathroom to pee and then I scram
I live the life of a rock-star
They ain't wanna let me through so I became a Cop Car
Put the Sirens on every time I touch a pen
Everybody move like dope - that's a fuckin '10'
My peers know I'm gonna win.
This music's like my first crush, for years I wanted in
I'm here. Oh boy will you taste the wrath
I'm a make it ugly like what's underneath Jason's mask
I listen to alot of mixtapes and laugh
All Ya'll nigga do is whine like Jamaican ass
Every night I celebrate, we take a glass of Champagne to the brain
Sometimes we take a bath
Victory feels far better
Than Defeat, you niggas weak, Solar's Letter
I'm harder than a fonz-lebber
My worst rhyme's 30 times rougher than your hottest bars ever
I could front like a car fender
Cause everything I'm on DJ's pull up like the bar tenders
New York I'm the answer to your prayers
Head Nod music, leave the dancin over there
Project Shit, ain't no Mansion over here
Just Murder on the strings, Charles Manson on the Snare
I'm hungry the game's like a Food Court
I just gave ya'll a loose hundred, Newports.
Chea
Joell Ortiz
Who feel they...
Who feel they better?
Sing Like Bilal (Remix) lyrics - Joell Ortiz (feat. Sheek Louch)
[Intro: Sample Of Lil' Fame]
Sing Like Bilal!
[Joell Ortiz (Sheek Louch) <DJ Premier scratching> {Sample Of Lil' Fame}]
Uh! Uh! Street mix! Y-Y-Y (Aiyyo yo Joell Ortiz whattup family!) YAOOOWWWWW!
<Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-You love my style this is not what you used to>
(D-BLOCK) {Sing-Sing like Bilal!}
[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]
Uh! I'm the boy that got the block in a squeeze
Ortiz my name hot like I shoot at the D's
Twelve twelve flow I'm what they rock in the P's
Cheese I'm on a roll like pastrami and cheese
It adds up why I'm a gift to this breed
I'm a addict even when my adlibs mean
Every radio station should add this Preem
Plus add my address and you have sixteen (WOO)
Seven One Eight I'm reppin the state
Of the Eighty Six Mets and the consecutive Yanks
Sixty Nine Jets and the catch on the face
That put the undefeated Bill Bellicheck in his place (Get outta here!)
It's so safe when you nice with the ink
All my beef come with french fries and a drink
Nobody want it can you blame 'em though?
When you see me scream W-A after the Y-A-O
YAOWA!
[Chorus: DJ Premier scratching (Sheek Louch) {Sample Of Lil' Fame}]
You love my style this is not what you used to (Yeah!)
You-you-you-you love-love-l-l-love my style
Sing-Sing like Bilal!
[Verse 2: Sheek Louch]
Waddup, yo I gotchu!
Yo, waddup Joell-ah, Donnie wavy like a cell-ar
I heard a lotta rappers, but none of them are realer than me
Who's he? Donnie G.
Still popu-lar, rooftop one binocul-ar
Watchin over my state, 45 featherweight
Watchin over my plate, Audemar and the fast cars causin men hate
Who's the hottest now? That's an easy debate
Either way like 6 o'clock, Donnie's straight
I can easily go back to that Mary and Kate
White girl and be outside, very late
Nope! - I got a mill-ion of stash
Got a dream that Barack told me to take it out in cash
Bake's about to crash, shades on my eyes
'Cause I mixed it up with hash, hah yeah!
Witness greatness, take a flick
I run New York and it's not on a heating stick
Ha ha! NEW YORK KNICKS, BITCH!
[Chorus: DJ Premier scratching]
You-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-You love my style
Y-Y-You-lo-lo-love-m-my-my-st-sty-style-ca-cause-I'm-n-not what you used to
So Wrong lyrics - Joell Ortiz (feat. Talib Kweli, Brother Ali & Jean Grae)
[Talib Kweli:]
Cutting niggas down like the Amazon, for posin like the cameras on ambush it with Joell Ortiz getting my Spanish on, Yo tengo ambre we eating money it's Nathan a freak in these congregations speaking the conversation with people who facing Satan I bring em the word of God, my observation's disturbing my words'll murder your squad. I pull the trigger with my tongue grab your Bible like Brigham Young spit fire my brain is a bigger gun I'm from Brooklyn where I'm from we call a nigga son, it's cause we shinin through the night break out the flashlight you must be on a short flight cause you pack light behave man I beat up cavemen with stalagmites get up and fight you too tired for another round they say I'm worshiping the devil cause I run this town now let me run it down and raise the stakes like a porterhouse with one fourth of the Slaughterhouse
[Joell Ortiz:]
The most exquisite, so gifted more like a wizard, I spit it a frigid blizzard of lyrics, what I exhibit'll finish you lil midgets, in minutes you'll all diminish for mimicking my image I'm the sickest nigga forget it, you'll never be near as clever or better every letter will sever your metal or medulla whatever you fellas are feathers don't measure up well with a heavy medicine pedaler incredible Pelle leather rocking Hip Hop Federer serving em every word got a purpose murderous verses emerging beneath the surface like volcanoes I burn every person on Earth should be nervous become servants and worship the permanently perfect version of merciless Copernicus I was sent from the stars an astronomer found my bars a kilometer off of Mars near Andromeda a phenomena no common thermometer's able to monitor my temperature the pressure'll crush your barometer
[Brother Ali]
[Jean Grae]
Farewell Summer lyrics - Joell Ortiz
[Joell Ortiz]
Yaowa!
Lot been goin on these past three months
If you don't mind, I'd like to share it with you
Let's see, summer of oh-ten
Well right before it kicked off I lost a really close friend
Last time we kicked it was at a show in Coney Island
Fucked with some bitches, I swear I miss my homie whylin
That was bad enough news, like I needed to hear more
Mr. Marshall Mathers is interested in us four
"Us four" being Crooked I, Joe Budden
Royce and myself, but I swear it's always somethin
When the talks got real, E-1 started frontin
Tryin to cockblock but we handled that, it's nothin
Listen close, hear it from the horse's mouth, it's crazy
The deal ain't finalized but yeah, Slaughterhouse and Shady
Shows been gettin better, Highline was retarded
When Fat Joe came out New York City went bonkers
Styles P came out and put it down for all of Yonkers
Even Sean Paul ripped it after twistin up the ganja
Closed the show with Jim Jones, you know "Nissan, Honda,
Chevy" had the fans Andretti, that's a monster
Wish I coulda spit that on the stage at Summer Jam
Can't complain though, that verse helped me scoop a couple grand
Aside from the music, yeah, copped a new apartment
Two bedroom joint, nothin fancy, lil' carpet
Marble in the kitchen, cool walk-in closet
A paintin here and there, somethin simple for an artist
If you havin girl problems I feel bad for you son
Well then feel sorry for me cause I had more than one
Like E-1 and Slaughterhouse single, I lost +The One+
Before the us and Pharoahe Monch Canada tour was done
I argue with her like, "Bein insecure is dumb
The only thing that I could get from all these whores is cum"
We did the Skype thing in my bunk on late nights
Always started cool but ended in the same fight
Why I ain't pickin up the phone once again
It only takes a second to reply to BBM
Baby I don't know what to say
Maybe it was the 20-hour drive from Montréal to Thunder Bay
Maybe my phone died, maybe I'm sound checkin
Maybe I'm on stage goin in for the crowd sweatin
Either way it's over, you failed to understand
You was dealin with a star, not your average brother man
On another note, I got to kick it with my sons
Up in Dave & Buster's winnin tickets, it was fun
Did Rockaway Beach, played some frisbee in the sun
At summer camp they had a Track and Field Olympics and they won
I took it down to Miami on the 4th
Wobbled out a mansion and did cameo of course
Shit I brought to the telly looked like panties on a horse
Freak brain, this bitch said "Nigga, ram me 'til I cough!"
I gotta call the bitch but yeah, Flex see that I'm focused
Droppin bombs like I did to get rid of the roaches
Feels good bein Puerto Rican from the pro-jects
And countries overseas havin a ball like my cojones
This summer I did well settin up for oh-eleven
Comin up on a year my granny said hello to Heaven
My moms still goin through it, e'ry now and then she cries
I'm tryin to bring a different set of tears into her eyes
"Free Agent" is FIRE! The world gon' see it's tough
I'ma drop the "Yaowa" mixtape with Green to heat it up
Shout to ICU, the documentary is nuts
Some people on there gone, a lot of memories, but yup
Gotta keep it pushin though the ride gets bumpy
I'ma keep whippin until I get money
Hate to be so blunt, but I came up extra poor
Borrowed from next door, couldn't get ketchup from the store
The butt of all the jokes cause of the rejects that I wore
Matching perfectly with all the V-necks that I tore
But nope, not no more, my feet keep the sickest kicks
Still doin V-necks but nowadays my shit is crisp
I'm comin for the title boys, hope you niggaz rhyme
I'm treatin this like high school, "A" game every time
Let you niggaz party, go on vaca', I'ma grind
'Til e'ry verse I kick is like Pele in his prime
Y'all don't want a war, be screamin mayday with a nine
Your thought caliber's no MATCH for this AK in my mind
Don't get clapped, like sex with a dirty slut
When I'm done with rap, they gon' hang your boy jersey up
Cause I done been an all-star on all bars
My dad left, and the apple never falls far
So I'm gone like a sports car
Anyone who think they better is just +Wild+, Draw Four card
I did this by myself, no help brother
No more sag, I'm comin for that belt fuckers
Said my prayers, and God called Joell's number
So stay tuned in the Fall, "Farewell Summer"
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