Lyrics:
the doors is all locked up
Don't nobody move ya body, it's a lockout
So everybody join da party
Da, da, da
Rocafella records
MH, Joe Budden
(Joey)
TUG,
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
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'N' Mama said it was
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'N' Mama said it was
said my niggas don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
Come on
Yo yo yo yo its
Father, who art in heaven, hallowed by Thy money. They kingdom come...money, They will be done...money, on Earth as it is in money. Give us this day our
seventy-seven
Seventy-seven
Seventy-seven
I'm not talkin' 'bout Joe Montana
I'm not talkin' bout Joe Namath
I'm not talkin' 'bout Joey Buttafuoco
I'm not talkin'
they’d leave
Let me take you where it started
Their acting like the s**t don’t matter
I’ve been doing it for years
You’re going to need a bigger ladder
the Bronx is back
It's my niggaz Cool & Dre on this monster track
(What they do Fat?) Yeah we been on some Don shit
Been stompin' niggaz unconscious
Been
you there
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I've got to find you
Whatever I do (whatever I do)
Hey Joe what you doing?
They say you don't care
Get the money and respect yeah I need that
Back when Joe was fat holla lean back
Smell the kush in the air where the weed at
The way you holla with
machine pon a idiot
Big fat machine pon a idiot
If a bwoy try test, then a mi dat
If a bwoy try test, then a mi dat
Send it up inna mi, it's alright
I ain't told on nobody except myself
I'll never fold I will prevail
I do this for the ones dead or locked in cells
Keep it solid remain real
Don't be
independent ladies, yeah, they make a lotta doe
So they get nothin' but love and respect from Fat Joe
I remember when I stepped in the game, yo
Army fatigue
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'N' Mama said it was
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'N' Mama said it was
"Well, Billie Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
Mama said it was
"Well, Billie Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
Mama said it was
"Well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please"
"There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow"
'n' Mama said it was
the messenger of death
Typically a hit like this should be quick
but they don't seem to know who their fucking with
Within a minute or so shows over
Ol Joe took
you there
Wherever you go
Whatever you do
I've got to find you
Whatever I do (whatever I do)
Hey Joe what you doing?
They say you don't care
pockets fat though, fatter than fat Joe
Yeah its a facto, they in the back row
You a fiasco, my lyrics Van Gough
This ain't your mission, times up you
Well, Billie Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please
There's five more acres in the lower forty I've got to plow
And mama said it was
With a clan, never ran, and in demand
So just a
Bust a rhyme
It's a must cause I'm
Funky fresh, in the flesh AND YOU KNOW THE TIME
Why don't
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