Get the Hell on With That

[Fat Joe] Whoa, whoa, whoa All you frontin-ass niggaz Callin all frontin-ass bitches, hahahaha! Yo, get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?) Get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?) Yo, yo, yo, yo Why you over there lookin at me, while my girl standin there? These bitches actin like they never seen a millionaire Feel my pockets, want to really get your hands in there Now what it be like? You confused man, that shit don't even seem right How you cats on your album only three mics? Like 'Pac shit is funny to me All you niggaz livin bummy wasn't fuckin with me Now nigga get it on, soon you be dead and gone Shorty got a bubble all she need the silicone Love my A-T-L bitches, pay my bail bitches Type to let you fuck but never tell bitches Down-ass hoes that'll grind that dough Catch me with another chick and beat 'em down to a pulp It's the F-A-T, to the, J-O-E Drink Cris' with the Feds when they come for me No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G Number one with a slug, what you expect from me, huh? Are you serious? [Chorus: Fat Joe] If you see a nigga frontin fake shit on his wrist Walk around all night, same bottle of Cris' Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? If you see a bitch frontin in her best friend's clothes New sass weave and fucked up toes Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? [Armageddon] Now all my ladies put your hands up Nah mami, if you fuck for dough then you's a hoe And no I'm not the one that don't drop the notes I only ice the beef and rock the coat Think you gettin somethin from me your thoughts are broke Might get a little wheeze and assault, he's wrote So get the hell on with that, don't you weave and feel it Get the hell on with that, I'm aight I'm chillin Chicken neck-ass bitch tryna palm the dough Should've charged me at the door, I woulda let you know Get the same jewel mouth full of heavy Mo' Coulda made you a thug from the guy with the mo' But yo, I ain't never met a chick that was innocent They all fuck some, eat some, never kiss I know a lot that got skeed on and that was it See me in the video like, "Bitch is suckin dick!" [Chorus: Fat Joe] You let him in at one time cause you thought he was fly Now you see him at the clubs, he don't pay you no mind Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Yo, every time you smoke, dude puff your 'dro But when it's time to go cop, he ain't got no dough Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? [Ludacris] Ludacris be the number one street - clown wishin 'em luck Cause I'm bout to make 'em break a leg thinkin I'm givin a FUCK And you catch a beat - down, bottles is breakin, craniums crack Chairs thrown when the heat is attacked and you hear the street - sound, hitters and runners Killers and gunners, winter to summer the niggaz that want us are headed East - bound, trouble in West other than South Cover your chest, they cover your mouth I'm goin deep - down Dirty indeed, birdies in need Thirty degrees and you heard it from me but I'm bout to reach - 'round grabbin my gun They scatter and run but I'm handlin and havin some fun They gotta keep - rounds up under the bed, up under the spread If it ain't then it ain't, no wonder you dead So go to sleep - now, throats is splitted and folks that get it they gotta get the hell on widdit, BIATCH [Chorus: Fat Joe] Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim thug like they're the type But when it's time to go to war they runnin for dear life Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Got this clown runnin around like he's my fam We did time in what joint? I don't know you man! Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? [Fat Joe] Yeah, haha, T.S., Terror Get the hell on with that, get the hell on with that Yeah, Charlie Rock L.D., uhh Ton' Montana rest in peace, 2001 Get the hell on with that, get the hell on with that Yeah..