Lyrics:
Ooh, mmm
Yeah, uh, uh
Fat Joe and the R
That shit y'all
Breakin' shit down
Shake that, funky, funky, funky
Yeah
Sticky, icky, icky, yeah uh
I
well Old Joe Clark
Fare thee well I'm bound
Fare thee well Old Joe Clark
Goodbye Betsy Brown
Old Joe Clark had a mule
His name was Morgan Brown
and off the grid
With all my friends
Roaming town and town like Willie did when he was a kid
On the road again
Highway vagabonds, living like hippies
ever knew
Was High, low, Jack and the game
Old Joe Clark had a mule
His name was Morgan Brown
And every tooth in that mule's head
Was sixteen
[Big Punisher]
Tired and relieved 'cause he alone?
We ain't got Artist of the Year, Rhyme of the Year
Grammy nominations 'cause we're fat
'Twas a balmy summer evening and a goodly crowd was there
Which well-nigh filled Joe's barroom on the corner of the square
And as songs and witty
on quite a show
And made some money
Then left town
Where they went I don't know
Hey all you suckers
I heard a fat woman say
Come on in for fifty
Ooh, mmm
Yeah, uh, uh
Fat Joe and the R
That shit y'all
Breakin' shit down
Shake that, funky, funky, funky
Yeah
Sticky, icky, icky, yeah uh
I
artists
I'm a prisoner, a slave to this rap
Get a shovel for them cats
I will six feet deep artists
Who rap like rap is supposed to sound?
New cats
You're gonna make it, Joe
you're gonna make it, Joe
you're gonna make it, Joe
you're gonna make it, Joe
Ever since you were a little kid
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
Your next favourite artist (Artist , Artist , Artist)
You're my favourite artist (Artist)
This hurts you my dear
Just give it time
I promise we'll meet again
I'm a tightrope walker
And a vagabond poet
Who was killed
For an artist's guilt
I have seen your colors
Woven in your blankets
I have heard your names on
Rivers and on towns
I have seen your turqoise
On fine fancy ladies
feeling like I'm Fat Joe so I lean back
Rocking these Tom Fords, taking these Xannys, I see black
A pussy, a pussy, and you is a pussy, that's three cats
the band comes in and locals dance the night away
At Sleepy Joe's Café
I drive on down from the big town Friday when the clock strikes five
As the red
step, kid
Watch your step, kid
Watch your step, kid (The Inspectah Deck)
I smoke on the mic like smokin' Joe Frazier
The hell-raiser, raising hell
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
We're sorry but the artist has decided not to disclose the lyrics for this song.
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