Lyrics:
Oh God!
[Verse Two: Fat Joe]
Hot enough swinging Crack, who could believe he's in the cockpit (cockpit)
Overseas moving ki's like a locksmith
Pocket fat, getting full more
Hoe in a tie, Hoe and a liar
Son do conspire
Billion of dollar from Mao China
Funny, you don't speak that loud now
Is you
fuckin' way
But here I am, workin' in the studio
And your album ain't out because you're movin' slow
By the time you make one I'll be on ten
Hit the studio
compassion
He lives in the love
That lives in our hearts
Words and music by John Denver and Joe Henry
[Fat Joe]
Yeah uh Terror Squad. (TS)
No Limit fam.
Uh TS. (TS)
Yeah yeah yeah uh.
NY to the NO.
Puttin it down like what.
Don
Mountain Landis
Kenesaw said drop that glove
Or I swear by God above
I'll make you regret playing baseball
And Shoeless Joe looked up and saw
Island
To shows at the garden
Automatic startin' in the drop got
Your bitch pussy fartin
My album about to drop in 7 days
But I still poke a rapper
"This ain't a blast from the past, it's a boomer from the future" - E.
Sermon
"Ya best to get your groove on, or get moved on" - Fat Joe
And ya
hoe or Fat Joe prick
You know I roll with them guards
We take niggas off the streets
And give 'em jobs
And most rappers play hard
Until they take
nigga started this shit
[Chorus]
Be careful what you ask for, Joe got bagged
He got knocked by the feds for some things in his past
Now he rattin'
And Fat Joe got Remy, so you can't be the queen
Talk trash, ayo matta fact.. my man right here..
Came all the way from Compton, to see me put you to shame
bitches
Down ass hoes that'll grind that dough
Catch me with another chick and beat 'em down to a pulp
It's the FAT, to the, JOE
Drink Cris' with
Joe
Man, 7.62, turn him G.I. Jane
It's that Rick Owen boot, they be knee-high, man
Now when I look down you know I can't see my ankle
Man, she
stories
Just like your picture which appears online
Obviously, Santa Claus exists
Your picture that's in your telephone
Or in some family album
Obviously,
from J Prince
She get it poppin', I'm a send her shopping and that ain't even my main bitch
Home invasions, live action, smoker Joe, I'm hijacking
Yeah, bitch, woah (jebi se)
Yoeshmo (jebi se, jebi se)
Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew (beep)
Motherfucker, fuck you talking bout (ski)
I'm Croatian by
it from my cock I don't feel shit
So check me the original joe pesky freak the sexy
I got more gadgets than the inspector, go-go jet-skis
Then swoop
Das letzte Mal dein' Schwanz gesehen?!
Was geht ab Jabba the Hutt? Machst hier ein' auf Fat Joe
Der Unterschied ist: Er kann rappen, du bist einfach
(after the song ends)
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... As you can see, MUSIC can get you
pretty fucked up...Take a tip from Joe, do like he did,
Why you mad? why you mad bro?
Lean back nigga fat joe
You know I’m just tryna get the bag yo
We like lol to the bank though
True talk (Yeah)
Look
25/8 I a never let the bag go
Just beccuz u flexxxin on the Gram don't make you bad h**
Choppas make a n**** lean back Like he fat joe
Never had
Loving in slow-mo
Forced to take it day by day
Lord knows that you might wanna kick back Jack
Kick back with your fat stack, Jack
Hold onto yourself
Spit facts like my teeth leak venom
These rats we eat like dinner
Lean back, lean back, fat joe when I'm whipping
Eyes open looking right at the mirror
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
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