FromdaTomb (feat. Chuck Strangers)

[Intro]
(Go Brooklyn)
Said what it's like?
Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers
Leave niggas endangered
It's the real, yo what's the word word?
Pass the herbs
Check

[Verse 1: Joey Bada$$]
My man Dirty had the buddha just to put me in my right mind
I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines
Sight dimes wit' slight closed eyes, I'm slight so pa
Ma you ain't that gold at giving throat so bye
it I'm bi-po-la, took shorty to the backroom
Play charades, she actin like a vacuum
Showed her to the door before the afternoon
She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon
Fake MC's get their [bad word] Young villain hop up on the track then the track doomed
Click-clack-boom, resurrecting Boom-Bap from the tombs
Raps dope like crack in cacoons
Back in this mood, back on the move
It's the [bad word] real, [bad word] chill act cool
Pay respect to the cat Drew
And I'm way too blessed to be throwing shots at you

[Hook]
Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest
Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era

[Verse 2: Chuck Strangers]
I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life
Just remember home boy there ain't no free way to life
My [bad word] it's gon cost you, try not to lose your soul
To the rims, hoes, and gold
Cause once the devil grab hold, that [bad word] ain't letting go
And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong
I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs
I know how to rip thongs and I'm pretty good at beer pong [bad word]  I'm so crazy, [bad word] I'm loco
Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor [bad word] we out the door, Vroom vroom skuuurrt [bad word] love don't live here no more
Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag
Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down
Heard this song and turned around
Now she want me to unzip her pants
But I'm gone, [bad word] missed her chance

[Hook] (x2)

[Verse 3 : Joey Bada$$]
I got sick of class, started making classics
Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses
I'm sure to blow like bust acid
Puff acids, like Mav, a [bad word] Maverick
And I average above average on an average day
Doing bad [bad word] bet you still can’t pass this
And his teacher still pass him
Though they adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons
Like [bad word] trigonometry, I’m trying to multiply monopolies
Subtract some homies then divide the cheese
Divide legs just to isosceles so my eyes can see through the [bad word] on you hypotheses
Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes
You can’t stand here unless you pay a posture fee
Part the cheese, head out the spot and leave
pile of G's for apology