Joey Bada$$ - Unorthodox lyrics
Joey Badass [Jo-Vaughn Virginie Scott] Brooklyn, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Joey Bada$$ - Unorthodox lyrics]
We done came up everybody love ‘em
On the regular
Lookin’ at popular colored faces
Observing what my brothers faces in all races
Lost in generations before hatred
See with your eyes dilated for
The sake of the Gs
But keep it sacred G, fuck a rat race
We take the cheese
Jack cheddar from the make believe
Break the trees on they eighth CD
Rocking the red and
Black lumberjack faithfully
I’m a Brooklyn nigga
Basically I grind with the grimiest
Learn how to eat in the jungle full of hyenas
And vultures
Don’t worry what a verse will cost ya
From the young scorcher
Just remember who taught ya
Imma spark it off unorthodox
Won’t sign to no major if no wager
Less than a 3 million offer off the top
I’ll be in a box with my coughin’ drops
Why settle for a office spot?
Niggas don’t always make it off the block
Unless they extort rocks or support the cops
They still snitchin’ - let me
Guess: that’s your mannequin?
Leave ‘em shook while you’re standing
And quit the shenanigans have you panicking
Induce damages ‘til you’re vanishing
Words are told properly
Resort top sea examinin'
This is for my real hip hop fans and ‘em
I dispose for 'em
Leave fake MC’s in the post mortem
Cause money ain’t a thing if I
Got it I won’t spend
All I got is my Pros, I don’t need no friends
Feel like this glory road is coming to an end
The only soul that won’t sin
No he won’t give in
Yo this world is bone chillin’
Make meals in hell’s kitchen
With these dishes
Properly delivered drop trees in my swisher
And bring that back to my property wit ya
It ain’t easy being this royal
When you got this much going for you
It ain’t hard to be disloyal
Comin’ straight from the soil with
Lines that never coil
Start to think pretty off new
Career with this spoil
The kid is that sick so expect more coffins
I’m the chosen one so you
Can expect more offerings
I be sonning niggas so expect less orphans
Best rapper alive hear that
Line used less often
Word to God I’m the best offering
BMX like Hoffman, BMF like Boss man
Young boss, man
Got Jimmy Fallon endorsements
From porches, to Porsches
Getting portions of fortune
They said next up so I stepped up
Fly like I dressed up
Bitches try to hang like left nuts
Like orangutans in the west of
Of the motherland
But I’ve got the swank of no other man
Brother man they can’t understand
Pro Era boys pop rubber band
Cause money ain’t a thing if I
Got it I won’t spend
All I got is my Pros, I don’t need no friends
Feel like this glory road is coming to an end
The only soul that won’t sin
No he won’t give in
Yo this world is bone chillin’
Make meals in hell’s kitchen
With these dishes
Properly delivered drop trees in my swisher
And bring that back to my property wit ya
Everybody love ‘em we done came up
I’ma spark it off unorthodox
They don’t feel the name
But they say the music dope though
I’ma spark it off unorthodox on the regular
On the regular
Lookin’ at popular colored faces
Observing what my brothers faces in all races
Lost in generations before hatred
See with your eyes dilated for
The sake of the Gs
But keep it sacred G, fuck a rat race
We take the cheese
Jack cheddar from the make believe
Break the trees on they eighth CD
Rocking the red and
Black lumberjack faithfully
I’m a Brooklyn nigga
Basically I grind with the grimiest
Learn how to eat in the jungle full of hyenas
And vultures
Don’t worry what a verse will cost ya
From the young scorcher
Just remember who taught ya
Imma spark it off unorthodox
Won’t sign to no major if no wager
Less than a 3 million offer off the top
I’ll be in a box with my coughin’ drops
Why settle for a office spot?
Niggas don’t always make it off the block
Unless they extort rocks or support the cops
They still snitchin’ - let me
Guess: that’s your mannequin?
Leave ‘em shook while you’re standing
And quit the shenanigans have you panicking
Induce damages ‘til you’re vanishing
Words are told properly
Resort top sea examinin'
This is for my real hip hop fans and ‘em
I dispose for 'em
Leave fake MC’s in the post mortem
Cause money ain’t a thing if I
Got it I won’t spend
All I got is my Pros, I don’t need no friends
Feel like this glory road is coming to an end
The only soul that won’t sin
No he won’t give in
Yo this world is bone chillin’
Make meals in hell’s kitchen
With these dishes
Properly delivered drop trees in my swisher
And bring that back to my property wit ya
It ain’t easy being this royal
When you got this much going for you
It ain’t hard to be disloyal
Comin’ straight from the soil with
Lines that never coil
Start to think pretty off new
Career with this spoil
The kid is that sick so expect more coffins
I’m the chosen one so you
Can expect more offerings
I be sonning niggas so expect less orphans
Best rapper alive hear that
Line used less often
Word to God I’m the best offering
BMX like Hoffman, BMF like Boss man
Young boss, man
Got Jimmy Fallon endorsements
From porches, to Porsches
Getting portions of fortune
They said next up so I stepped up
Fly like I dressed up
Bitches try to hang like left nuts
Like orangutans in the west of
Of the motherland
But I’ve got the swank of no other man
Brother man they can’t understand
Pro Era boys pop rubber band
Cause money ain’t a thing if I
Got it I won’t spend
All I got is my Pros, I don’t need no friends
Feel like this glory road is coming to an end
The only soul that won’t sin
No he won’t give in
Yo this world is bone chillin’
Make meals in hell’s kitchen
With these dishes
Properly delivered drop trees in my swisher
And bring that back to my property wit ya
Everybody love ‘em we done came up
I’ma spark it off unorthodox
They don’t feel the name
But they say the music dope though
I’ma spark it off unorthodox on the regular