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Fat Joe

Joseph Antonio Cartagena (born August 19, 1970), better known by his stage name Fat Joe, is an American rapper, CEO of Terror Squad Entertainment, and member of musical groups D.I.T.C. and Terror Squad. more »

Ollie ollie oxen free!
Like one, two, three 
Red light, green light, one, two, three 
Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes  Pitch the ball I'ma smack that shit
Yeah, ohhhhhh, going.. going 
Yeah yeah what up son?
Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like..
Nah, I ain't got no bullets 
Yeah yeah yeah yeah 
Top two for five, three for five, we rollin!

Now I'm in too deep 
Only sixteen already hold a name in the street  Makin the fifth scream, rockin older niggas to sleep 
Make a fiend strip naked 'cause he owed for a week
Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies
 Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise 
Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide 
Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died
 Young and not givin a fuck 
 There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em shit outta luck
I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots  Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot
 Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw
 Stacks of money on the bed and the floor 
It wasn't long til I did what he did
I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived 
I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks 
On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit
I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me
I earned my spot, my whole team elected me

Gangsta, gangsta 
I wanna be a gangsta 
My daddy was a gangsta 
Gangsta, gangsta 
I wanna be a gangsta 
My daddy was a gangsta 

Yeah, uh, yo, uh 
Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing
But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again 
She started out fuckin dudes that resembled her father 
Mom knew shoulda schooled her but the bitch didn't bother 
You couldn't blame her 'cause she got it from her
She was a rider from jump, her pop's died in the hands of a chump 
Now she's mad at the world, no more daddy's little girl
Now she's rockin bandanas, no more Shirley Temple girl
Now she be runnin wit some scramblers that be down in Alabama  Packin twin hammers, screamin "Life doesn't matter"
It's a vicious cycle, her game is pretending to like you
 Thinkin you getting head but she's just duckin so they can snipe you
 Movin from state to state, runnin everything from guns to trains 
And pushing packs from eight to eight 
You know I can't say her name but she was a looker  Pretty thing, such a shame how this life has took her
Now she's raising hell in the cell, no more his are hollering 
You might suffer the same fate if you repeat the following..
Sell drugs, use drugs, get caught up in the mix
End up locked up or dead in a casket, that's it


Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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"Gangsta Lyrics." STANDS4 LLC, 2017. Web. 25 Jun 2017. <>.

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