Making A Murderer, Pt. 1 Lyrics

I'm right here per your request, now you stuck in them shoes
No alliances with Meek, it's still f*ck 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 f*ckin' confused, hey

Mic check, mic check
One two, one two
Wait a minute!
Drake: I'm happy, I'm honored... I'm, I'm, I'm honored to be around you, man
Joe Budden: Yo c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon
Drake: 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?
Joe Budden: It ain't an honor to be around me!
Drake: 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?
Other Person: What up? What up?
Drake: I said don't say it in vain, you know he's one of the best
Other Person: Nah it's all love
Joe Budden!

Look, enough of the sentimental crap
Cool if you into that
f*ck 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, with 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

“Might have made a mistake out of this one— Joe Budden

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