Lyrics:
let's bring the chips in the bag and let's go
It's Fat Joe, I'ma set it straight
If you do your hist I exist through Diggin In The Crates
I
a fat behind
Bend over, baby, give me mine
Got one damn thing on my mind
Body made by God's design
I think about it all the time
Let's play where the sun
Still only opened my notes
Focused to cut out the fat, until this album was done
Kept asking God for forgiveness he helped me write what I wrote
Reminded
swear down, I'ma be the number one for ages
The fat dumb judge took a look at me and threw the book at me
Told me what I couldn't be and what I wouldn't
"Uncle Bob, where you at?
Yeah I know your pockets fat but I don't give a fuck 'bout that
I'm glad we family" (uh)
We a half breed family, yeah, yeah,
stop?"
When my name's on a billboard, and my album's at the top
Baby get to bussin in the back of the B class
Gotta' turn the beat up, cause I'm bout
bacam konja na ulicu
I zbog toga će poginit svi reperi na svijetu
Fat Joe će zaplakat i otić će na dijetu
Kurt Cobain će oživit i ponovo se ubit
Lil Wayn
X-MO testimony
And unlike how I was taught to testify
Inside the Mormon church
By making I know statements all the time
About, let's be real here
(okay)
To his album we ride we so mob (okay, yeah)
I throw lives and lowest to live
For my loaf of bread the people's player
I did what the culture
Ready for war Joe, how you wanna blow they spot
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's
Ready for war Joe, how you wanna blow they spot
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's
(yes)
It's like that man, it's like that (yes)
Check it
I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never
sign my shirt?
[Violent J:]
Hehehehehehehehe, yeah
I remember school, hoes back then were like "Joe Bruce ewwww"
Years passed by, and look I
sign my shirt?
[Violent J:]
Hehehehehehehehe, yeah
I remember school, hoes back then were like "Joe Bruce ewwww"
Years passed by, and look I
QUEEN DRESS INNA LOUIE AND FENDY
S DI BENZ DI ENEMIES ALL ENVY
BIG FAT MATTIC GAURD RING FROM SAINTY
PULL PON YUH GYAL WITH THE TOP OFF
1942 WE A POP
(okay)
To his album we ride we so mob (okay, yeah)
I throw lives and lowest to live
For my loaf of bread the people's player
I did what the culture
profit (Profit)
Hella cash in my wallet
If it's money I'm on it
All I think about all I think about
All I think about is profit
Fat racks in my pocket
I
nigga?
By the end of the record I will have ended you niggas
These niggas hate to see him playing off the script that he wrote
They be like "Why he call
blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself and niggas run they mouths like auctions
To streets my brother
Fefe's my brother
And we stay on point like a fucking
the cool in you
Or it'll be a sad love song being sung by Toni Braxton
And I'll dissect you like a fraction
All you wannabe top cat MCs, I'll pop you like
Ready for war Joe, how you wanna blow they spot
I know these dirty cops that'll get us in if we murder some wop
Hop in your Hummer, the Punisher's
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
her "If you come, please do not bring your fat friends" (Nah)
I just paid 30 thousand to get them envy (Envy)
Now I'm a real life pimp now
100 thousand
How are you stoppin' us? They is not toppin' us
You know I had to cop that shit just by the twos
Blood in my chakra, I will not pop at ya
Put money
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