Lyrics:
[Fat Joe]
Yeah uh Terror Squad. (TS)
No Limit fam.
Uh TS. (TS)
Yeah yeah yeah uh.
NY to the NO.
Puttin it down like what.
Don
the same
Jesus Joey crack
You must be sellin cocaine
Cause they don't make no money like that
In the rap game
Mister mister rain man
Ya I can make it rain
woulda know that life would've been this way
Then again, if I knew, then would I do it the same
Beamer Olive it's blue in the rain
Copped my man
And Shelter And A Fork And Knife
Shine A Light In The Morning And A Light At Night
And If A Thing Goes Wrong You'd Better Make It Right
Well, I Had
job
And the drought got me prayin' for a car time vibe
Summer Rain come again
Numb the pain 'cause it's hard for a felon
In my mind I been cryin',
[Fat Joe]
Yeah, it's for all my hustlin niggaz
All my liquid dime niggaz
All my niggaz flippin bricks out there, yeah
All my niggaz in the Columbia
Hustlin'
(Fat Joe:)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
See life a style
Now it's rappin'
How you push packs
In large amounts
And never spend a day in life
Movin'
clean
Yes I may be a dirty old man by the time I can beat down this dirty old scene
But if I ever get my break
I'm gonna make my break clean
I've
ready, so ready
I'm a red hot pistol
And I'm ready to fight
I'm a thirty eight special
On a Saturday night
I'm gonna kiss your boo-boo honey
Make it
as the horse between my knees
Clean as a wind that blows behind the rains
Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze
Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I
as the horse between my knees
Clean as a wind that blows behind the rains
Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze
Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I
to all my haters)
All we do is stunt and blow the paper
The paper
The balling make a hater wanna hate us
The haters
Can't take it when they see the money
coast to coastin'
Rub it on your skin like lotion
What's the commotion? Oh my Lord
Another cord chopped by the Wu-Tang sword
Hey, hey, hey, like Fat
Fifty-five hundred, nigga, that's your range
When I came to the club, make it storm, hurricane
Your nigga pull up, think he G.I. Joe
Man, 7.62, turn him
I start you know I got ta
pay homage and respect to Afrika Bambaata
Zulu Nation for twenty years of work
Fat Joe wouldn't be on if it
on that minimum wage
CHORUS
Shove it in their faces, give 'em what they want
Got to make it fast, it's a fast food restaurant
Shakes' full of plastic,
Colin Powell, general admission
You are all welcome, new Malcolm of the talcum
By any means, AK lookin' out the window screen, uh
Let's get it on, new
coast to coastin'
Rub it on your skin like lotion
What's the commotion? Oh my Lord
Another cord chopped by the Wu-Tang sword
Hey, hey, hey, like Fat
adopted
Plus an ostrich couldn't swallow my cock, quick 'cause it's stopped which
Makes the Soopaman Luva get stockings by the flocks bitch
So
now I'm bustin' at you
So fuck you dude
[Chorus]
Dedicated to my homeboy Pac
Love daddy
Facemob in the house
Fat Joe and it don't stop
Come on
featuring Diamond D Grand Puba
[Diamond D] Ninety three it's time man
(All out yo because youknowhatI'msayin..)
[Fat Joe
I'm Fat Joe on that stove, gotta get, cook, crack!
I'm tryna get it, let some fiends hit it
Let 'em lean wit' it, make sure they Bean wit' it
If they
got stranded, it was out at a cold lonely
Crossroads, and as the rain came
Pouring down, I was hungry, tired
Freezin', caught myself a chill, but
It
keep exclusives to make dudes see less units (c'mon!)
Can't stop won't stop
Rock it to the rhythm
Cause we, ah get down
Cause we, ah get down
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