Lyrics:
greatness (Uh-huh)
My man Hell Rell's in the building, BX borough. (Uh-huh)
J.R. Writer's here, you know he's the Writer Of Writers
Right now, I don't know
Pizza Ranch bread, got an eyeball on my head
I just murdered this beat, man this shit is fuckin' dead (Woo)
D-line always talkin' so much shmack
Sayin',
money, man (you're liar)
My Maserati is bad, man, it's blue and green and gold
(That's a lie)
I just bought this hoe this milllion dollar ring, man
(You're
out a big hand and
Said with a grin Big Joe's the name
And this here rig's called Phantom 309
Well I asked him why he called his
Rig such a name,
, (we in duh house)
The thugs is in the house, (we turnin' this thing out)
Wanna see the thugs gone (see the thugs gone)
And wanna see the thugs gone
reverend al be like, "joe's that nigga"
John gotti, supreme team show
These are the niggas you compare to joe, hello
This is the crack house, welcome
right here nigga
This my muhfucking house
I pay the mortgage around
This motherfucker nigga
You know what it is CTE or nothing nigga
This is my
time it is
T.S. in the house, yo T.S. in the house
[Fat Joe]
Yeahhhhhh.. like this!
Chilly Dee (represent, and uh)
Gizmo (represent, and uh)
Think a click fuckin with this man whatever
[Chorus: Sacario]
Live big all my shorties you know who you is
Spend that dough, you don't need a nigga that
(Fat Joe!) Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
[Fat Joe]
Aww shit, what we have here
Ninety-three and it's a brand new year
My name is Fat Joe I got shit
ask me, I tell them
(Here's to Roc-A-Fella)
Raise your glasses, your glasses, your glasses to the sky and
(Here's to the Roc)
This is the last call
That's my neighborhood.. FUCK NO!
I'm from the streets of the BX Boro where niggas push packs
This is that surge shit, that full flex shit, Al Groh
I own a mansion, but live in a house
A king-size bed, but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half full
But my tank is half empty,
knows that I came from it
I am the king of this land here
See the Queen on my hand yeah yeah
And if you got a problem
Get out my house Get out my house
I own a mansion, but live in a house
A king-size bed, but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half full
But my tank is half empty,
the right filter for taking that selfie
My Ireland is rich land dressed by Penneys
My Ireland is The Quiet Man
And Waterford Whispers shouting for us all
My
was the one who played the shoot 'em up games
Here's another patient, and yo what's my name?
"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Yeah! (2X)
"This is
Krayzie, Layzie, Bizzy, Wish, and Flesh, my niggas (Wish: my niggas)
We gon' ride for the niggas that didn't make it to see
The way we, do this here, Tomb
Sometimes that's all it takes to ruin my last pull
And right now, that's what got the kid at peace
Let me smoke this one cig in peace
Look, now 'is a couple
before I get old (talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation (talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation, baby (talkin' 'bout my
as Mumm-Ra's
Well, when you look at my pee
And this joint no exception, so just point a direction
And record the pig's oink when I rip his intestine
This
in the be -X baby!
(Cook coke crack)
[Chorus: Joe]
Sweat is our cologne ? we grindin
House-landin homes ? we ballin
Duece to the game ? we payed
menace
But it ain't Rocky Dennis
Watch me bend this rhyme in half
I'm like Moses, with the mic is my staff
Layin' down them 10 commandments
Thou
In the industry
I don't give a fuck what you did
This is my house
Take off your shoes when you walk in my crib
Niggas talk crazy to Hitman
And I'm
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