Lyrics:
I nodded at a sermon
Billy Graham barely got through
But anyone can see my new celebrity is you
I'm not a bit ashamed of it
A rapier wit
Kept Serge
and shove it up your ass
Followed by the "oohs" and "aaahs"
Your foolish pride gonna fuck around and put you on the loosin' side
Who got bodied?
Nigga, you
the jealousy
I got out of situations what the fuck you telling me
Big bag, I'm chasing that big bag brother (bruh)
Big bag, I'm chasing them real stacks brother
changin' the weather
All my bitches in designer
All my niggas got choppers
You don't want these problems
I'm on the block with some robbers
Gangsters,
owe me, when the money due
I got bills to pay, I'm the same as you
Pay me what you owe me, when the money due
I'm just tryna feed my family why you
Excuse me while I sing to you
I'm being real and that's the thing to do
I'm just living and loving
Smoking and fucking (Yeah huh)
Out here
don’t give a damn by now you niggas should know that (Yeah real)
Men I might just bring my middle finger to a gun fight
Like yoo
Look nigga don’t play me
Beetles then we went to Regals (Tell 'em)
Now it's Maybachs with the glass ceilings (Woo)
Shots of CÎROC got me puffin' pot (Uh)
Self-made, how dare you
(Got it on Smash)
(Go Grizz) Yeah, yeah
Ha-ha, you already know
(Hitmaka) Yeah
Two-seater run with your bitch (ooh)
Butterfly doors
me
See, I'm not a rapper, I'm a prophet
Chill Joe stop it, skill will speak for you, don't pop shit
Fuck jail, I'm on my payroll cop shit
I call that
I got some money on me
I’m bout to kill these hoes
I don’t be politicin', I’m not political
Fuck you talkin' about? bitch
I’m Kenneth Cole
My goons
musical component
It's your man Fat Joe, oh, is that so?
You remember me from, "You know ya got to Flow"
One time for your mind off the top of a dome
like a centipede
Screamin' "Rell please don't shoot me, I got children"
"Should've thought about those snotty-nosed kids when you was snitchin'"
But now
Do you remember Joe Strummer?
He told us that the future is unwritten
And though I loved ol' Joe
I think he got it wrong
Cause everyone I know
Every
Juvenile voice:
I love my music, my nasty music, it makes me happy, when I am sad,
You don't know how, how much I love it, please don't take my 2
push me, ay, I got that bitch by the bushes
Chasin' that bag like the Roadrunner I use to trap in a 4Runner
I ran it up for like 4 summers Got the O
They say a good journalist always reflect the times
You got faith, you always gotta check for signs
Wake up, nigga (La música de Harry Fraud)
was Joe 3H from Capitol Records
He wanted to sign me really bad
Dame was like, "Yo, you got a deal with Capitol? Okay, man, just make sure it's not
me when I'm sincere (Sincere)
Only ride out with the big dogs (Big dogs)
You can check our status, we got big claws (Big claws)
I don't fuck with you
the honky-tonk's fantasy
Tina Turner, the living legacy
And she's still got you tripping off the legs you see
Another chick they used to beg to see
Was Josephine
planned out perfect
In case y'all niggaz got to get murdered
A Mastermind
Sleeps at night, real easy
A Mastermind
'Cause everything he does is by
me for some guidance know I'm guiding them
Got the cookies if you need it come and cop it it's exciting them
They say Big Joe just get up speak ya
nigga, you got yo ass kicked
I was a curious child
I used to hang out by the ballroom and study the gangsta style
The way they talk, the way they walk,
statues.
If you gotta problem, shut the fuck up, no one asked you.
Hunter got his lady they be runnin’ up the beer pong.
Year long champions, run that
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