Lyrics:
and you fry in my iron furnace
I am on my get rich or die tryin' like when Em was signin' Curtis
'Cause I am murderous
Joe Budden, Jersey City, New
Dreams... And by the way that was off the new Maiden England video which we shall talk about in a
minute... you know, after a year you pushed it up to number
the street
Where they never judge a brother by the shoes on his feet,
They welcome everybody come from near and far,
There’s always plenty of room
I was born with an old soul
So when I hear what you bump it sounds so so
I remember Fat Joe with the Fo Fo
Went way harder than you
Hoes spittin' old
, say it ain't so Joe
Big city jungle
African street
The only real difference is in
The people they meet
_____________________________________________
and still piece of art
No frat boys, no skinny jeans
I'm more like the Fat Boys and Heavy D
In '86 spitting free in the park
I've been patiently waiting
Fat fat milkies, fat fat titties
Fat fat pusspuss, fat fat kitties
Fat cock, upload that shit on your laptop
Get stopped by a cop, bop bop (dead)
Not
Meet me downstairs by the lobby (by the lobby)
It's okay if you bring somebody (somebody)
Meet me at the hotel room (meet me there, meet me there)
to give up
You repeatedly suck
You in the league of a duck
You a measly schmuck
If you was speedily struck by a GMC truck
I wouldn't give one flying
fuckin' way
But here I am, workin' in the studio
And your album ain't out because you're movin' slow
By the time you make one I'll be on ten
Hit the studio
of music
I'm the, I'm the guy that we love this music I love grime world
If there was a room, you get me, and a microphone and a PC lock me in there
I'm
on zoom
Boom new toon, write songs in my room
Sleeping with the bride, even though I ain't the groom
Your husband assume, come back with his goons
Put
on zoom
Boom new toon, write songs in my room
Sleeping with the bride, even though I ain't the groom
Your husband assume, come back with his goons
Put
what The Matrix wants you to be, a they/them, emo, goth, transgender, fat-
We're lost, in a world of just fog and diminishment
Kind of madness here,
Das letzte Mal dein' Schwanz gesehen?!
Was geht ab Jabba the Hutt? Machst hier ein' auf Fat Joe
Der Unterschied ist: Er kann rappen, du bist einfach
Man I feel like master P
Tank chain corn rows and shit
Man I feel Hector "El Father" rapping with
Jay Z
Rompediscotecas had that album in my
In December, the rains came one
Great big package, over-sized
Just like everything else in California
And it came right through
The roof of my room
and my man Fat Joe
My man O.G. and the rest of the homies
The Zulu Nation for the foundation
From when I was a kid watchin Lost In Space, and
I never
Couple bitches in my room they bikini-less
Off the liquor got me leaning like I'm fat joe
I'ma keep it to the point cause it's facts though
Imma stay up in
T.F.C.
Lyrics by: T. Krzyston
Music by: T. Krzyston & McFeenin
Bdao
Fat
You gotta love Them Fat Chicks!
Fat
Bdao
Went to this bar and there she
[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 way up, like I'm Fat Joe
I'm in the sky, I feel fly
They be like, "Who's that guy?"
Ima be like "I'm gonna kill it"
And you be like "I kinda feel it"
money on me (money)
Only thing in my pocket, big face (what?)
It's amazing to me how my baby pull up with a fat ass and a skinny waist
It's amazing
money
So when I walk in the room they be looking at me funny
Smoother than soul glow
You check where my soul go
Shorty sippin on soco
Surround by bozo
Man
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