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You've got to do what you've got to do Until you get it done You've got to know what you're in it for And don't stop 'til you got what you're living for
the fat kid from Trinity Who was once a public enemy is now a loved celebrity If Joe could do it, It could happen to you Set goals, and keep
the same Jesus Joey crack You must be sellin cocaine Cause they don't make no money like that In the rap game Mister mister rain man Ya I can make it rain
back when I get a bag Joey gonna lead, they can see it in me Only for a second I ain't see them believing in me Walk by faith but if they talking
up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up Maybe we should put him in a cell and lock him up, until he fucking talks Rat on Fat Joe, what do you mean?
meat) let's feast (Let's feast) Oh Lord thank you for this beef Now it don't stop 'til the fat girls sings ('til the fat girl sings) When it's over
right there That's the 2's and the 5's * bag rustling * Joe gimme that, the fat, the fat cap, fat cap Yeah.. * train rolls in * Aight * shaking
Power from the street lights made the place dark But yo, they didn't care, they turned it out Uh, you know who this is, South Bronx Fat Joey Crack
how we be Yo pass the bong It's the return of the king like the lord of the rings I'm back in this bitch and I'm doing my thing The Joe and B. Crowe
QUICK JOE SMALL KATSENETZ KATZ Quick Joey Small went over the wall With a ball an' a chain behind him Quick Joey Small went over the wall Send
see I usually don't play The tied-up watchdog routine Looking up and down the street But this is the corner Joey A., my car and I Were supposed
say? What do you know? If you don't loosen up the buckle On your heart and start to chuckle You're gonna die of boredom, Safety Joe Now, Joe he lived in
Let me just make this statement Loud and clear, Jersey's here Hey, Ja, Joey Triangle Offense do it like (whoa) Maybe it's the vinta' deuces
see I usually don't play The tied-up watchdog routine Looking up and down the street But this is the corner Joey A., my car and I Were supposed
work I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson And Buster Douglas could
beats, baby) Great John on the beat, by the way I don't care if it still stink, I'ma leave her alone Even though she out here wishin' R. Kelly was
I don't wanna do a damn thing today Don't wanna go, I'm just gonna stay Instead of work I just wanna play Plus I pulled away fat stack anyway I
the scar on my neck I spar with the best Joey boombay-ay, hit hard with the left Sharp with the right, I don't know why I bother Y'all not retarded Man
never be toys Verse One: KRS One Fat Joe Yes I am the ultimate uttering ultimatum's for the fun of it It appears to me you don't know who
Hustlin' (Fat Joe:) Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo See life a style Now it's rappin' How you push packs In large amounts And never spend a day in life Movin'
[Fat Joe] Yeah, it's for all my hustlin niggaz All my liquid dime niggaz All my niggaz flippin bricks out there, yeah All my niggaz in the Columbia
it yourself I'm done with this shit ya getting the belt it's time to go Joe I'll see you in Hell You just killed him what the fuck did you do then
(4:30 in the morning, mira) You know what I mean, mira Dame te culo, mami (give me my shit back, give me my shit back) Yo, Fat Joe and them is
of the tri borough So what we gonna do right here son Aiyyo matter fact son I'm tired of these niggaz man! Word up! [Fat Joe] Hey yo
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