Lyrics:
niggaz know the deal
Check it out, the fuckin' shit is real
Hey yo, it's real
[Chorus]
[Fat Joe]
Check it out
Let me let ya know why I made this
[Fat Joe]
Yeah don't get it fucked up
This shit is realer than you think
Goin out to all them niggaz gettin cream
Drivin them
than these bitches
And I'm just so sick of this shit, it's ridiculous
Middle finger to the feds, (?) all day
Take her out to eat then I make a bitch
Keep It Real For Gang They Say Ill Never Change They Say Cold In The Rain But We Go Make Way Every Dolla Make You Rich But You Gotta Save Not These Hoes
Make it rain, make it rain, Lord, make it rain
Make it rain, make it rain, Lord, make it rain
Drip, drip, Lord, make it rain
Drip, drip, Lord, make
passion, but got no job
So when you talk about living your passion
Them go yob you say, "Chale, make you dog"
When you make it, you can make it rain
Cats
a hundred grand when ever I hear a new song
C'mon c'mon that's too many ring-tones
Two point eight what you want me to tell ya
Make it rain man, Rhianna
play like they sane
It doesn't matter (play in the rain) we always play in the rain
Too much of data can make the mind overload
Scramble all logic not
cuz no none likes you
Throw it in the trash, and I call it soprano
Burning on his track, spitting image Vesuvio
Gonna make him mad, like a poor mans
punchin body blows and uppercuts
[Fat Joe]
The South Bronx is the wrong place to visit
I don't know an MC who has enough balls to diss it
a hundred grand when ever I hear a new song
C'mon c'mon that's too many ring-tones
Two point eight what you want me to tell ya
Make it rain man, Rhianna
I'm Fat Joe on that stove, gotta get, cook, crack!
I'm tryna get it, let some fiends hit it
Let 'em lean wit' it, make sure they Bean wit' it
If they
play like they sane
It doesn't matter (play in the rain) we always play in the rain
Too much of data can make the mind overload
Scramble all logic not
Lies all mixed up with omissions
Aw welcome home again
It's too late for apologies they're falling at my feet
This is just the way of the world Joe said
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
of day, and you respectin' these hoes?
Shame on you, ay ain't that kinda lame on you?
Busta, I grab a strap and make it rain on you
[Hook: King Jacob
(Intro - Fat Joe talking)
Cool & Dre, uh
Terror Squad motherfuckers
They're all gonna laugh at ya, haha
They're all gonna laugh at ya
Yeah,
Make it rain trick, make it, make it rain trick
Make it rain trick, make it, make it rain trick
Make it rain, trick make it, make it rain trick
Make
hearin' Jay-Z shout out that nigga Dame (it was)
Fat Joe vs. Ja Rule wasn't as special
They said Ja won but Joe was super disrespectful (he was)
Lets
our troubles away,
& the rain will wash our troubles
Clean away...
CH.>
(4.08)
Lead guitar by Heggarty /Feed-back by O'Keeffe
‘Ha!
gang, aka them Ladder boys, we back
We back i ain't playin
I said i don't make it rain, I ain't rich
I ain't got a milli
I ain't trynna chase a bitch
tuddie blap
It make her booty fat
You know I'm slapping it differently
Jump in that wraith
In throw bentley bs
Call me young shiggdy
I got the remedy
Two
know through this song
That Life Goes On
[Chorus]
So I moved on to the next phase a my life
I finally met the women I would make my wife
It was
im purple rain live like a rockstar
Old school whips wit the top dropped
Smokin exclusive reefer chiefin keepin fat chops
Hit a hunnid on the dash
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