Lyrics:
what Santa really put
Under my so-called tree but in reality
Looked like nothin but a decorated pole to me
Man, you talk about a tree it makes
Salt Lake, Joe," says I to him
Him standing by my bed
"They framed you on a murder charge"
Says Joe, "But I ain't dead"
Says Joe, "But I ain't dead"
started laughing and joking
We weed smoking, stroking, the shorty's spoke and
Said what the deal is, the realness
My man is crazy as Bruce Willis
If he
Fat Joey Crack representin the realest
I got my man Big Dog Punisher in the house
Yo Punisher, let these niggaz know
[Big Punisher]
Brothers are rappin
the Ville'
Grab my dick, Fuck this trick and slay my scrill
Slap the taste right outta ya grill
When I'm fuckin' with Kam and Ski nigga shit is fa real
and the shit do kick, word
I'm on the Cross Bronx with Fat Joe and my man
On the East side of town with a blunt in my hand
Soundview, Monroe, Castle Hill,
on me
Like the Gap Band
And we 'on fuck
Wit' Jake
Or the fat man
And we know
What's at stake
And that's them
Racks man
And ion just
Spit game
I spit
Damn (Ski,ski,ski,ski)
With My Skis
The way I'm talkin', give a nigga two million dollars worth of game, huh
System got my nigga locked up in two
the mole on his nose
Throughout my struggles through the hood, I started learnin
Life's a bitch, with a pretty face, but she burnin
Man I'm a get cheese
Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
M-E-T, H-O-D, MAN
Verse One:
Hey, you, get off my cloud
You don't know me and you don't
hood nigga
What's really gangsta nigga
What up what's poppin man
Aiyyo fuck these niggaz man
Let these niggaz do 88
[Fat Joe]
(yeah uh what uh yo
a player, I just fuck a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe are still down by law
Who's down to fuck tonight?
Hey yo, I'm still not a playa but you still
crush a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe are still down by law
Who's down to crush tonight?
Hey yo, I'm still not a playa but you still a hater
knew it'd be warm.
At the wheel sit a big man, he weighed about two-ten
He stuck out his hand and said with a grin
"Big Joe's the name", I told
With No Shrub
Grab A O A
Me And My Chick We Pour Up
Smoke Somethin
Right After A Stroke Somethin
Roll Up 4 More Joints On Em
Alone Say My Man Got
Yahweh
Selassie eye and I'm proud to say, I never need a 9 by my waist
Niggas still respect my game so celestials respect my space
And I just might be in
Better Know man should've
Knew I never said it by mistake
My t-shirts make more money than your mixtape
I tell a boy Boy Better Know
It's money making
a shorty pregnant
Man, that's the definition of a life sentence
A whole lot of beef, no bread, no lettuce
'Cause I couldn't keep it in my briefs, man that's
Now Gypsy was my little dog I found by the road in a ditch
And so I named him Gypsy cause that name just seemed to fit
Oh and Joe he was my man he was
the man)
Pain in my cup, weed in my hand (in my hand)
Load up the ninas, give them boy a tan
Go, go, gang (ski, ski)
Go, go, go, gang
Go, go, gang (ski
like Joe Pesci
Catch man home alone and you're dead meat
Beef? Smoke a spliff with one Tetley
Don't stress me out, no don't stress me
You don't,
Too high, can't come down
Losing my head, spinning round and round
Round and round round and round
Back to the hoes
Ridin' down 7-4th and Hoover
a player, I just fuck a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe are still down by law
Who's down to fuck tonight?
Hey yo, I'm still not a playa but you still
Larceny.
I did it all, I put 'da pieces to da puzzle.
Just as long, I knew me and my peoplez was gonna' bubble.
Came out da gate on some Flow-Joe shit.
Fat
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