Текст Joell Ortiz – Box Talk
Текст:
Box talk…
Box talk…
Let this shit go around once
You nah’ mean? Let it do its due diligence
I should get my liquor license, I’m just out here with bars
Lied when I said I’m from Mars, I’m actually from far, another quasar
But hey, y’all, let’s not go AWOL
I’m built for every war
No metaphor said before can describe shit like this
Slight twitch, I might just
Go in the booth and turn up every mic switch
To frequencies of high pitch
Communicate with the beat ’til you take a defeat
I’ll RuPaul you in your hood, drag your name through the streets
Nothin’ sweet, catch diabetes seizures staring at heat
That I keep up under the fleece stuffed with London geese
Ovengold turkey and cheese, bag of Funyuns, jeez
Can a nigga eat what he wanna eat?
I ain’t sexy, I’m street
Fuck bitches with my Timbs on my feet
And a toothpick in my teeth while we listen to Sheek
I tried to fuck Cherokee, she just ain’t get in the Jeep
When it come to digging these freaks
I pass out and pass gas
Basically I do this shit in my sleep
The pussy good, you get a kiss on the cheek
And then a kiss on the cheek
Back to business went from rags to riches
Got rich and threw the rag back on my head after the bread, let’s get it
Watch them cars, drive-bys is like a motor sport
Shout out to my downtown niggas who literally hold the Fort
Might slight over to Barclays and parlay
At 40/40 with the .40 on me, I know the security
My jewelry ain’t too gaudy, but niggas is corny
Sometimes you got make examples and add to your story
Every legend that I know went through to hell to get glory
I want the DeLorean parked near my 740
I’m stressed, jogging in the park at like 7:40
My oldest son said he sexing his shorty
Told him I don’t want no episodes of Maury
Cover your Ortiz up
And don’t be laying up with fourteen sluts
With fifteen hundred dollar butts from DR, be smart
But if he anything like me, he’ll be a fucking retard
You know the apple never falls too far
I fucked every apple bottom that came too close
Oh, this the second time you came? You gross
I got a love-hate relationship with squirters
I love to see it happen, hate I gotta change the curtains
And my comforter, but some of ’em is worth it, wet
Box talk…
Box talk…
