Lyrics:
your fat mooma the second hand smoke
What's f**k is this
Ch-n they say you're a fag
You forgot that I f**k your bitch
You're going to do what niga?
Can't
money
You might reinstate the draft and I'm gettin bummy
So I clear my head by goin testin testin one two testin
And countin my blessings
And pray for
know I need to be loved by you
You know I need to be hugged by you
And I can't wait to be touched by you
'Cause I need to be, 'cause I need to be
Coffee Brown
Get to know me, the man, the person
So by the time I'm on my fifth album
You should understand the first one
It's non-fiction, you deny you
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
my blunt and that's fat joe
Never tryna stunt this hoe telling me I'm mad dope
I Heard your little song that shit sounded like a bad joke
Brain blast
[supreme]
Ain't no time to waste, we in the race
All my peoples wit me, they try to get to first place
M.f.c., way for life, I'm here to let you know
(wanna be me)
Broke my heart into B-I-Ts (B-I-Ts)
You know, they F-A-T (F-A-T)
Hits thrown, but I-D-C (I-D-C)
My ass is the B-I-G (B-I-G)
Takes a lot for
like Jar-Jar
Hardy har har, very funny
You very dummy, and every questions very crummy
I'm asking you, what do you want from me?
An essay on the F-A-T
Hey 'Pac, it's yo' boy
Hey man so far I've been listenin' to your album
And I ain't heard nothin' you could kick back and smoke a beadie to
You
anywhere
F**k mi good nuh handle wid care
She ready fi siddung pan b***y like chair
Breast stiff nah wear nuh brassiere
Har punani nuh have on nuh hair
niggas in the game
A lotta niggas got two albums I can't explain
How they maintain to keep the same migraines
I can't help it if my brain is supersonic
a sermon
Spittin' sick is a gift
I've been blessed by the lord
Been the illest since they snipped
My umbilical cord nigga
Yo, what the fuck is up man?
eating and getting fat while y'all dying of hunger
I get drunk in the winter, stay high in the summer
Watch out, my album's putting up McDonald's numbers
a comeback like I'm Tony Parker
Call my assistant I need me cover
My album be fire
Ill still drop another one
You mimick my style
You got nothing on none of us
How freaky can you get to a long fat dick
Hella freaky like I said to a song that hit
I'm the dirty rapper Too Short, the triple X
Run up in
I used to kick it with a brother named, Moe
Moe used to kick it with a brother named, Joe
Joe used to kick it with his girlfriend Lateisha
like Fat Joe Sing
I'm here to bring the new Stove Boy Team
We got the Flame, we aiming straight at your spleen
We bring the pain, If you smell what I
might get Hee-Bie Jee-Bies
Good pussy, good smoke - my only Achilles
Don't give no f*ucks if these niggas gon' feel me
I murder the beat then I make me
head wid chicken by the buckets
Mhmm mhmm mhmm
Di 45 mi nuh lef it, if not mi tuck it
Verse 1
Suit slick, fresh bread widout the raisin
Tell Scotia
that or they 4:4, some call them fantastic
She called me fantastic, I called her a fat bitch
Still kill the pussy, put the cat in a casket
The funeral
truck (Beep, beep)
Say he want smoke, bitch, then it's goin' up (Let's go)
Gold around me like I'm King Tut (Tut)
Smalls shoot like Joe Johnson, coming in
and a beanie
Sippin' on a martini, takin' my pick at bitches like eenie meenie
I'm unscannable, young cannibal
Eat wack MCs like Hannibal
'Cause Joe Pesci's my
(boom, bitch)
Bitch, quit runnin', nigga, flip somethin' (ha)
I know your soft ass ain't did nothin' (oh)
I'm hittin' these hoes by the four (thot)
Discuss these by f and i album fat joe Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In