Lyrics:
someone fucking jizzed on the lid
It's a little bit of Joe pubic hair in his shit
Shit fard, fucking barred by the plunger
Fucking fard like it's thunder
Yo, Yo What's good it's ya boy Joe Crack the Don
Aka Fat Joe, Aka We the business
Check this out, This is brand new, Top Floor
(That Nigga Jo' Goin'
For my thugs for my thugs
I don't wanna be a player no more
I'm not a player I just crush a lot
But you know Big Pun and Joe still down by law
Who's
feat. Fat Joe, JuJu, Noreaga
Uh
JuJu
Nore
Fat Joe
Tony Touch
Joe Crack 'the don'
Top of the world, we ain't gonna stop till you earl
got
hearin' Jay-Z shout out that nigga Dame (it was)
Fat Joe vs. Ja Rule wasn't as special
They said Ja won but Joe was super disrespectful (he was)
Lets
this guy named Jose
Now all theres left is a nickname
Mary and Jose
They were good as a couple but Lex got involved
Bitch Touche
Now Lex is a bad boy
arms, bustin' guns with them
We're just thugs for life
Bustin' slugs for life
Forte', Brownsville, Gun tec unite
Fat Joe, BX you know the shit stay
bag, big ups, my plug, Big Man
Jefe Jefe Jefe Jefe Jefe Jefe Jefe Jefe
Jose hit me everything Straight
comin in by the bail Aye
pockets fat gaining
pockets fat though, fatter than fat Joe
Yeah its a facto, they in the back row
You a fiasco, my lyrics Van Gough
This ain't your mission, times up you
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
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
call me Joe
Fat as ever and clever, and never second to none
Wearin' leather and better (What's your name?) DJ Run
But in the summer's a bummer,
right now, pick up a pound
Enjoy and lounge with style, y'all know my name by now
[ chorus ]
[ outro: fat joe ]
No doubt
Cuban link, baby
'99
Terror
Guaranteed You're Going To Choke Son
Fire Smoke I'm High Joe
Eyes Low Smoke Somethin
Up Early That's Wake And Bake
Cigarillos My Pancakes
This Ain't No
so you know my ass high
Funk made by my nigga named X,
Bitches with the fat lips and fat ass, I want to sex
Check this, nuts to your chin now fin,
motherfucker did I studder
With my brown paper bag, here to represent the hustle I'm out
[Fat Joe]
Coka baby man you know I already had money
Definition
so you know my ass high
Funk made by my nigga named X,
Bitches with the fat lips and fat ass, I want to sex
Check this, nuts to your chin now fin,
dissolve the bound our hearts entwined.
Mark, Jim, Joe, Ralph and Louie, Chuck and Billy too; Jose, Glenn and Mary; Virginia I remember you.
I remember
as this fuckin' perc 30 (perc, yeah)
And most of these hoes don't know my name is Joe
They just call me "Jose" (Jose, hola)
Talking in Spanish I like how it
doesn't even make sense no way, wouldn't even do it for my man Jose
Cuervo, hell no,
My Mehicana, my bro
Not even for my man Big Pun or Fat Joe
Who's gives
Fat Joe the Don!
And Mr worldwide reporting live from the east
Ross the boss, Mr mauricio
I know paper, can buy the newspapers
Millions now, billions
shake the city, so I shook that shit like a crying toddler
Hit the gelato papaya, took a sip of the Jose
Everything turned red for eight minutes, woke
ain't never seen me probably heard me few niggas probably seen me lot of Niggas on the street know me know I'm saying FAT K nigga I ain't playing no
Dually kickin' up dust on a one lane road
Joe Diffie tunes hummin' out the radio
And the night so young as we are right now
Sittin' frozen in time
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