Joe Budden, Laws - Target Practice lyrics

Yo, I got rap on it's back in a missionary
I'm erasin' the word swag from the dictionary
You say they wannna give me
A Grammy? Oh goody just let me grab my black
Sweatpants and Champion hoodie
And it's on, I'm sorry you a bummer
I don't run a liquor store But
I feel sorry for your mother
'cause her son is such
A fuck up He follow when he should be leadin'
Me without a brain is the only
Way this could be even yeah your boy is back
And I'm all about business like
Your boy in black i get hyper than a show
With your boys in back
I got ups like Luigi when
His coins are stacked
A hundred to be precise they
Wanna make me starve
And then they wanna feed me advice?
Well fuck it, I'll beat 'em twice
I got a black suit you can try on son
But what I don't got is a
Shoulder you can cry on son
So what you cryin' for?
I ain't give it to 'em yet
I been holdin' back
What I give 'em is the best
What you think they gonna do?
Think they gon' play dead?
What you say you gonna do? I'mma
Hit 'em in the head

Joe partner, go harder here's some advice
Work on your flow for starters
Chill, don't bother to ask me for help
Got you pussies on lock, no chastity belt
I'm after the wealth
Tryna to have the world in my palm
Tryna to reach the top of
The world and beyond
Bread crumbs for the birds
That's the trail that they on
You can meet me at the suite
Of the 'tel in a thong
School of hard knocks
Whack rappers droppin' out
Weak metaphors, punches don't knock 'em out
From now on, bad bars ain't rockin' out
No space for 'em under the
Board to box 'em out
Let's begin, they respect is thin
Don't care if you rich
Can't afford to neglect the pen
Steppin' to them's an expected win
When I slam, you can notify the next of kin
Joey

Can you hear me now?
I'm talkin' to my chick like do
I make you really proud?
With all these women tryin' to give
It to me cheering loud
And if I give it to 'em
Would you wanna hear me out?
If we were to switch positions and you had
The ability to spit like a 50 Cal
And you became famous, would you chicken out?
When you get approached by the
Guys who did Maybach
And they say the game's whack
They tired of these lame cats
When everybody wants you to be
The one that saves rap
And they askin' what you doing
You don't wanna say rap
'Cause this music is bullshit
It ain't been the same since
Puffy said take that on an ADAT
They hear the track and they
Said Laws ate that but he'll never be famous
Because Laws ain't that
So what I'm lookin' for in
The crowd ain't daps
I'm thinkin' who I finna aim at?

I ain't give it to 'em yet
I been holding back
What I give 'em is the best
What you think they gonna do?
Think they gon' play dead?
What you say you gonna do? I'mma
Hit 'em in the head
I'mma hit 'em in the head