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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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