Gangsta

Fat JoeFat Joe 

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Fat Joe

Joseph Antonio Cartagena (born August 19, 1970), better known by his stage name Fat Joe, is an American rapper, CEO of Terror Squad Entertainment, and member of musical groups D.I.T.C. and Terror Squad. more »

Year:

2002

3:53

35 Views

Playlists:

#1

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[Intro: Fat Joe]
Ollie ollie oxen free!
Like one, two, three
Red light, green light, one, two, three
Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes

Pitch the ball I'ma smack that s***
Yeah, ohhhhhh, going.. going
Yeah yeah what up son?
Yo I got this twenty two n**** play me like..

Nah, I ain't got no bullets
Yeah yeah yeah yeah 
Top two for five, three for five, we rollin!
 
[Fat Joe]
Now I'm in too deep 
Only sixteen already hold a name in the street
Makin the fifth scream, rockin older n****s to sleep
Make a fiend strip naked 'cause he owed for a week

Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies
Pumpin pounds of weight, n**** like exercise
Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide
Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died

Young and not givin a f*** 
There ain't a n**** I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em s*** outta luck
I'm a gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots
Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot

Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw
Stacks of money on the bed and the floor
It wasn't long til I did what he did
I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived

I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks
On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie s***
I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me
I earned my spot, my whole team elected me
 
[Chorus]
Gangsta, gangsta
I want to be a gangsta
My daddy was a gangsta
Gangsta, gangsta
I want to be a gangsta
My daddy was a gangsta
 
[Fat Joe]
Yeah, unh, yo, unh 
Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing
But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again
She started out f***in dudes that resembled her father

Mom knew shoulda schooled her but the b**** didn't bother
You couldn't blame her 'cause she got it from her
She was a rider from jump, her pop's died in the hands of a chump
Now she's mad at the world, no more daddy's little girl

Now she's rockin bandanas, no more Shirley Temple girl
Now she be runnin wit some scramblers that be down in Alabama
Packin twin hammers, screamin "Life doesn't matter"
It's a vicious cycle, her game is pretending to like you

Thinkin you getting head but she's just duckin so they can snipe you
Movin from state to state, runnin everything from guns to trains
and pushing packs from eight to eight
You know I can't say her name but she was a looker

Pretty thing, such a shame how this life has took her
Now she's raising hell in the cell, no more his are hollering
You might suffer the same fate if you repeat the following..
Sell drugs, use drugs, get caught up in the mix
End up locked up or dead in a casket, that's it
 
[Chorus]

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