Search results for 'by is herebig joe rides again album big joe turner'

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Crack is back again (oh-oh)
Had to rip this track again (oh-oh)

And when it's packed like The Garden
You know it's the Squadron

The god,
out the window in a sec, ya heard?
Joe Crack the Don Diggler
The savior, Caesar, the streets is mine nigga
We ride, who wanna test the record
all ready know what it is)

Thank god for those days, thank god for those nights
Though it might seem wrong thank god for that white
They use
is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER again . . .
And so MARY was enticed away from JOE
By an evil barbarian with a wrench in his pocket
Lured into a life
the rest
Copped another piece, hit the dark streets
Rollin' once again, fuck the damn police
Called up my boy Joe, a roof job pro, 459 on his mind car
the cops came through and try to grill 'em
I'm talkin '95, Big L before they killed 'em
Em before 8 Mile, Shyne before the jail shit
Canibus, no album out
I grab the beer, but not in the ride
Cause I'm not stupid I don't drink and drive
I'm not a beginner, amateur or local
My album is sellin, because
Here we go again just spent a hundred of that brown paper
Bag money all on timbs, and that bad bitch is all on him
'Cause the cars that he drives are
this life that I live, I learned a lot about friends
And how they just like these bitches because all they do is pretend
Hoes will wanna ride for you
Phenomenon O.C.
Big L, one-three-nine baby
Diggin' In The Crates
Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppin

Yo, yo, yo
I'm from
was a dream, maybe it's smoke in this mirror
Wish I could change it all just by blowin' smoke in the mirror
Been such a long ride, wishin' I was
Life handed me lemons
I jump back in the public eye and squirted lemon juice in it
By now you just wish I'd fucking die but I electrify
on down to Colorado's 
Big niggaz from uptown  ridin into Tahoe's 
Saloon settin  kids is walkin round 
Drinkin whiskey and scotch, strictly out

The nine millimeter, is really dreadable 

Wicked an wild yes you're wicked an wild 

Prince Ital Joe yes you're well versatile 

Is it
the get-a-long game would come through and make amends, 
And by the end of the week they were all super friends. 
G I Joe would get all riled up again, 
Here we go again just spent a hundred of that brown paper
Bag money all on timbs, and that bad bitch is all on him
'Cause the cars that he drives are
On the passenger side of a ride
Like a player, I'm a be up in the cut talking the big shit
Strange Music, we be the misfits
Come and twist Rittz, tisk tisk, cause
a brick back,
Now I'ma move it by day nigga six macks,
And ain't no runnin' off with yay shootin' big straps,
Forty cals, S.k's with no kick back,
fuck up us by them thug life control 
How should the thugster 
Must be in the area 
Outlaw does the law 
Dept on the gangsta 
When's Ital Joe
there ain't no stars or stripes
Just thugs, a bunch of drugs and the big thick bitches with crack pipes
A vigilante gettin panties by some jaked up flake