Lyrics:
I remember)
Miami ballin', it's a hobby, call a nigga Joe Robby
Haitian food or hibachi, ATVs, walkie talkies
Chris Paul, we load the rocket
Eight
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
with diabetes at 14 years old
On “HIStory”, it wrote
“Dedicated to the children of the world… The healthy, the sick, and the dying”
It’d hit home
I
work
I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse
Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson
And Buster Douglas could
in drag?
Maggie and Jiggs, what a gig they got
That's the big problem
It's a Re-Ron, it's like Geritol
It's Jerry Mahoney and off
The bleepin' wall
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
It was down by old Joe's barroom, on the corner of the square
They were serving drinks as usual, and the usual crowd was there
On my left stood Big
the waiter Big Joe was setting me up
You could've heard a pin drop
It got deathly quiet and the waiter face turned kinda white
Did I say something wrong I said
forget it
(Back on the block to stay)
[ VERSE 3: Big Daddy Kane ]
Back up and give the brother room
To let poetry bloom to whom
It may concern
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