Lyrics:
496 I'ma lead that
Fat Joe
Lean Back uh
Call me Paramedics he need that
Get the breesh no bitch you could keep that
Two guns I suggest you run
Cause
Man these bitches hoes, and these niggas hoes
Ballin’ on these niggas, number one like I’m DRose
Switch make a big nigga lean back like he Fat Joe
mad,
and I'm staring at their butt cheeks
When a bitch let's everyone hit in the butt
She's always coming back with a fat gut
She's showing pictures,
[Murs]
I stumbled out of bed, hungover, none sober
Like the Joe's rushed my body and I was the sole cobra
Still a soldier grabbed a soda helped my
In a corner by the square
The drinks were served as usual
And a goodly crowed was there
On my left stood Joe McKenney
His eyes blood shot and red
He
at Sloppy Joe's
The drinks were standin' tall
With Buffett on the jukebox
And Hemingway on the wall.
Then up spoke Sam the Shrimper:
He said, "I've been
(4:30 in the morning, mira)
You know what I mean, mira
Dame te culo, mami (give me my shit back, give me my shit back)
Yo, Fat Joe and them is
and the rat-a-tat-tat by Max or Philly Joe
On we go
{all together}
(lyrics not printed)
[Doodlebug]
The season's been fat like some boom
Doodlebugs math jazz
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
I don't even drive it I be sleepin' on the way
Keep the money off the gram and keep the shit up in a safe
By the way
Under pressure had him sweatin'
thirty feet the fat lace
10 for the rafters
Cut the other 20 in the 4 or 5 after
'Til each one on checkerboard J & J classics
Pose when he go to kick
His
said "Enough of that humble rap"
Now every single you drop I'ma double that
Jigga-jigga Joe cut the record down to
My sound surround you like racism, you
twerkin' wit'?
Throw it, bust it open, show me what you twerk wit'?
Ass so fat, need a lap dance
I'm in that white ghost chasin' Pac-Man
Hundred out
Naughty and Fat Joe are down with us
The MAAD Circle are down with us
Def Squad, is down with us
?DN's and Mike M? are down with us
Dr. Dre you know
Yeah. Uh. Joe crack the don!
Ton' Sunshine. Terror, uhh
Terror squad, its our time!
Uhh, yea, hand it ova
Uh, yo, uh-huh, what, yea, uh, woo
of them was fat
Some of them was hoeing
If it's snowing I probably wont be going
What's the moral of your story
You play me like a game, you lie to my face
the clit and put the pussy to rest
I might not flow like Fat Joe but I'm cool
Fucking third of the trio, a pussy eating fool
Dripping out my mouth baby
the meat, she gotta go (yeah)
We eat the beef like a fat ho (uh-huh)
Choppa make 'em lean back like Fat Joe (lean back)
Get you wacked, nigga, that's what
found my soul mate finally
But one day I found out she actually owned a copy
Of Joe dirt on DVD
Oh, no! I said
Hey! Are we lobbing hand grenades, kiddo?
a-a-ass up, face down
(Mera, dime, Fat Joe, lo' intocable' ¿oíste, cabrón?)
Yes, ass up, face down
(Papi, tú me dice', qué el que fantasmee en Nueva York
masturbate
Pass the cake, a Big Mac
Large fry, two four-piece nuggets
And a fuckin' massive shake
I eat it all faster than a fat kid's plate
Then I'll need
fade ya like a record, I'ma play ya
Like suede Pumas, clides, fat laces on a mayor
Deliver like a mailman, slide into your crib-o
Rather have a limo
our blood
Uh, new heroines, new Marilyns
Move coke through Maryland
Through Easton, oh, you beastin'
Move fat packs, Jack Gleason
The honeymoon's
here, over here
Over here, over here
Ayo, fuck all that, it's the fat young Jesus
Flow prestigious
Stackin' money and playing the field man like Regis
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