Music Video

Your Old Droog - Just Rhyming Ft Joey Bada$$ & Styles P (prod. by Black Milk)
Watch Your Old Droog - Just Rhyming Ft Joey Bada$ & Styles P (prod. by Black Milk) on YouTube

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Your Old Droog
Your Old Droog
Performer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Black Milk
Black Milk
Producer

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Since four wings and home made Icee, I been sheisty
Holding weight, the worst round
A bad seed like eight facing Golden State first round
Drowned in that brown water
Still rhyming like I'm holding headphones to the mic
On a sound recorder
Like I'm still selling punchlines
Eyes red, cutting droogs in the lunch line
With krills in a North Face jacket
I know this an oxymoron
But y'all are straight faggots
Nowadays emcees is hardly rhyming
They must got stage fright like Carly Simon
You're so vain, stick the knife in your torso
Pain, turn around, feed you Horse Lo Mein
Man these whores is so lame
They rock Nirvana shirts in the hood but they don't know cocaine
Rappers drop they take free and walk into these label meetings
Singing, rape me, I'm an escapee
Find me a cake, pity like Utica, Utica, Utica
Saying rhymes, I don't know if they therapeutic-a
[Verse 2]
From ghetto to ghetto, to backyard to yard
I spit it on soft drums, or ones that's hard
We just rhymin', rhymin', rhymin', just wildin'
From ghetto to ghetto, to backyard to yard
Marathon bars, who wanna spar with the Gods?
Just rhymin', rhymin', rhymin', just rhymin'
[Verse 3]
Let me get your dying in order
My mother and father was probably fire and water
I come through the skies, am I wild, am I wise?
Eyes are the window to the soul, no lie
I can look in the mirror
Might see an extra dude
Or my reflection move
Turn **** vegetable
I can be ten states away and get next to you
It's odd, but it's hard when the Gods start blessing you
Spookiest, the eeriest, wolf-so
I can smell a bitch on her period
Shit is dead serious
A few ghostwriters
A angel and a demon
And some lost souls screaming
Light the weed 'cause I'm fiending
King in my past life, died for my freedom
Am I martyr, am I royalty?
****, that's for you to guess
Never been to Budapest
Everyday's a Buddha fest
I ain't Hell Rell, but **** know I'm a Ruger rep
My new Style and Your Old Droog
Greeting at Whole Foods
You're slow, dude, way before ProTools
I walked around with a pro tool
.38 special, yeah, the ghost was so cruel
[Verse 4]
From ghetto to ghetto, to backyard to yard
I spit it on soft drums, or ones that's hard
We just rhymin', rhymin', rhymin', just wildin'
From ghetto to ghetto, to backyard to yard
Marathon bars, who wanna spar with the Gods?
We just rhymin', rhymin', rhymin', just wildin'
[Verse 5]
Check, hold the applause
Who wanna spar?
I got the rifle on when I rap assault
Still doing somersaults with my eyelids
And even with my eyes closed, can't do what I did
Still waking up and asking, Lord, can I live?
They never liked us
Wanna see us up in Rikers Island
Illuminati want me for my mind, soul and body
Only if these **** knew they feared the wrong posse
Mentally disturbed
A menace to sobriety
Until I leave this Earth
A tenant to society
And which is even worse
I can see the hearse
Parked outside the church
That's my gift and my curse
I'm on a mission, keep an eye for opposition
****'s tryna stick 'em for their rap position
But Joey never hiding
Ready when you find him
My **** won't hesitate to escalate
For now we just rhymin'
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