 |
|
- | 
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous One`s Envy (1995) | |||||
 |
|
- | 
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
Blam!
Bang bang baby! Yeah, Terror Squad style Trizzie, check it out now Yo, I'm rated X in sex, I flex like Lex Lugor So who's next to get scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba? We do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes Sayin "Mami's out" like Sugar Ray Cause Cuban Link don't play miss, I flip and do some strange {shit} Witchu like hit you with the whips and chains, check it I get you naked like I'm mystic, cause this {dick} is Thick as a brick, raw with big {balls} that bend it Now let's get, physical, my jiggable pie Let this lyrical guy scuba dive right between your thighs I satisfy like a Snickers bar cause I'm the bigger bar That'll stick you quicker than a 'spic will strip a car My repoitoire holds a four star performance with all women Hittin more skins than Alec Baldwin You're fallin in love and you can't get up Now check the cut, I stripped ya, now you can't strut, word up Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Yeah, uh, uh, yo Paradin in the Palladium, all eyes on my presence Poppin the Crist', sportin the chick straight out of Essence Word up, patch thug, three quarter front Polo jiggy Be like 'Who is he, lookin like a grizzly?' While your girl watch me, you're busy drink pissy Wanna lay your love, but your love wanna kiss me, huh I got a fly team, me and my guys gleam like high beams Makin the killin off of fiends with pipe dreams It might seem, like I'm conceited with the cream talk But I got the kind of green that could bribe a Supreme Court And when we talk, the whole world listen Turn your back to T. S. for one second and find your girl missin Baby make me holla, take it off, I give you dolla We can party til manana ain't nobody gotta know nada Word to Allah, give me some Mississippi massana I'll be in the sauna, troopin the naga like the chupacabra Cool it mama, you gettin too hot, bust a shot Boo - yaa! Rub it up and down like my oo - wops Suscia!, show me your dirty dance The way you work the pants make any man wanna jerk his gnads Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Yo, my {shit's} official like it in you like, Keith Murray Bury my beef, gettin your sweet cherry every week if necessary I'm very nasty like Nas, did you ask me? Pass me those {ass}cheeks and I'll bring you joy like BlackSTREET In the backseat of my Jeep, we can chill Or Creep like TLC but don't sleep, I keep it real What the deal mami, you wanna feel on my steel salami? Come and try me, I'll sign my name all over your punani Ohh mami, you comin home with me All night in my tub drinkin Hennessey Gettin lyed up with your thighs up, I'ma surprise her When I rise up, inside her Yippie kay yay, I'ma ride her, and guide her Straight to the triz, where we goin, straight to the crib Pun in here and Cuban and Seis, you know what time it is Soon as we walk in the crib, let's get biz TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ (oahkayyy!) Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Since ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?) I make you scream papa (you the best bana!) Bet ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?) I make you scream papa - adios mama! |
|||||
|
|
5:01 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
Blam!
Bang bang baby! Yeah, Terror Squad style Trizzie, check it out now Yo, I'm rated X in sex, I flex like Lex Lugor So who's next to get scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba? We do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes Sayin "Mami's out" like Sugar Ray Cause Cuban Link don't play miss, I flip and do some strange {shit} Witchu like hit you with the whips and chains, check it I get you naked like I'm mystic, cause this {dick} is Thick as a brick, raw with big {balls} that bend it Now let's get, physical, my jiggable pie Let this lyrical guy scuba dive right between your thighs I satisfy like a Snickers bar cause I'm the bigger bar That'll stick you quicker than a 'spic will strip a car My repoitoire holds a four star performance with all women Hittin more skins than Alec Baldwin You're fallin in love and you can't get up Now check the cut, I stripped ya, now you can't strut, word up Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Yeah, uh, uh, yo Paradin in the Palladium, all eyes on my presence Poppin the Crist', sportin the chick straight out of Essence Word up, patch thug, three quarter front Polo jiggy Be like 'Who is he, lookin like a grizzly?' While your girl watch me, you're busy drink pissy Wanna lay your love, but your love wanna kiss me, huh I got a fly team, me and my guys gleam like high beams Makin the killin off of fiends with pipe dreams It might seem, like I'm conceited with the cream talk But I got the kind of green that could bribe a Supreme Court And when we talk, the whole world listen Turn your back to T. S. for one second and find your girl missin Baby make me holla, take it off, I give you dolla We can party til manana ain't nobody gotta know nada Word to Allah, give me some Mississippi massana I'll be in the sauna, troopin the naga like the chupacabra Cool it mama, you gettin too hot, bust a shot Boo - yaa! Rub it up and down like my oo - wops Suscia!, show me your dirty dance The way you work the pants make any man wanna jerk his gnads Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Yo, my {shit's} official like it in you like, Keith Murray Bury my beef, gettin your sweet cherry every week if necessary I'm very nasty like Nas, did you ask me? Pass me those {ass}cheeks and I'll bring you joy like BlackSTREET In the backseat of my Jeep, we can chill Or Creep like TLC but don't sleep, I keep it real What the deal mami, you wanna feel on my steel salami? Come and try me, I'll sign my name all over your punani Ohh mami, you comin home with me All night in my tub drinkin Hennessey Gettin lyed up with your thighs up, I'ma surprise her When I rise up, inside her Yippie kay yay, I'ma ride her, and guide her Straight to the triz, where we goin, straight to the crib Pun in here and Cuban and Seis, you know what time it is Soon as we walk in the crib, let's get biz TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ TRIZ (oahkayyy!) Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like that (like that?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Since ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?) I make you scream papa (you the best bana!) Bet ya man can't do it like Link (like Link?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Seis (like Seis?) I make you scream papa (you the best dada!) Bet ya man can't do it like Crack (like Crack?) He can't work the middle, cause his thing too little Bet ya man can't do it like Pun (like Pun?) I make you scream papa - adios mama! |
|||||
|
|
1:04 |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998) | |||||
|
|
3:11 |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Puff Daddy]
Nobody said it would be easy ha hah [Puff] What y'all want to do hah? (2X) Nobody want to handle it [Puff] AS WE PROCEED TO GIVE YOU WHAT YOU NEED [Puff] What y'all want to do hah? (2X) [Puff] NINE EIGHT IT'S THE GREAT [Puff] What y'all want to do hah? (2X) Verse One: Fat Joe Now why the sad face jealous for fellas that's diamond laced Tryin to find a place to recline shine my face Under the sun where it's warm, runnin with Pun til I'm gone That's word is bond on my moms That's the squad motto, got beef we call Rallo Diablo Drago, he go to war wit a bottle Simple as dat, flip out the mack and cripple a cat ("take that" 4X) Right through your back tissue with any pistol I pack (c'mon) Physical rap means we live the lyrics Long as niggaz fear us you could never entirely disappear us We the realest you ever gon' see In all honesty, ain't another brother that's hotter than me Modesty'll get nowhere, that's why I go there (yeah, yeah) Like lettin you know where to buy the new Fat Joe gear (that's right) Five sixty (five sixty) only the Squad ride with me Unless you a Bad Boy, and roll with Puff Diddy (eheheheh) It's my city, and everything in it Ain't a thing rented (c'mon) it's my Benz, if you see me in it (yeah) We invented floodin the watch, and runnin the spots That's why, I'm not a player, I just crush a lot Chorus: Puff Daddy What you thought, we ain't run the streets? Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep Rollin deep with the Don-Tana I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana (repeat 2X) Verse Two: Fat Joe Yea, uh, yo You better slide or catch this homicide Ain't no match for Joey Crack I'm blowin backs out the other side Brothers died and mother's cried at wakes, these are The Breaks Kurtis Blow your head off like Jake (like Jake) So take heed and read between the lines, ain't no cheatin mines Player haters never want to see my shine Up in the Range or in the Lex Coupe Rockin a fresh suit with dress shoes, on my way to Les Boo's Less choose the life we rather live, on the streets stabbin kids or livin mad sweet in lavish cribs Fix marriages for my kids, six karats, I'm a whiz (mm, mmm) Exotic tokin parrots on my wrist It ain't shit but for sex, money, and drugs True thugs with slugs and wrap bodies in rugs What the fuck, Joe Crack, twist your cap back Leave your heart rate flat, once Terror Squad attacks (yea yea yea) Chorus 2X (Puff Daddy talkin over chorus) Terror Squad, and Bad Boy Joey Crack, Big Pun I see you Can't sleep, ten deep Yea, uh-huh Adios to manana Terror Squad, what? Bad Boy, khanmean? Joey Crack, Big Pun I see you, I see you c'mon, yea, yea, say what say what? Say what say what? Uh-huh I see you.. take that.. Adios to manana! |
|||||
|
|
3:51 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Puff Daddy]
Nobody said it would be easy ha hah [Puff] What y'all want to do hah? (2X) Nobody want to handle it [Puff] AS WE PROCEED TO GIVE YOU WHAT YOU NEED [Puff] What y'all want to do hah? (2X) [Puff] NINE EIGHT IT'S THE GREAT [Puff] What y'all want to do hah? (2X) Verse One: Fat Joe Now why the sad face jealous for fellas that's diamond laced Tryin to find a place to recline shine my face Under the sun where it's warm, runnin with Pun til I'm gone That's word is bond on my moms That's the squad motto, got beef we call Rallo Diablo Drago, he go to war wit a bottle Simple as dat, flip out the mack and cripple a cat ("take that" 4X) Right through your back tissue with any pistol I pack (c'mon) Physical rap means we live the lyrics Long as niggaz fear us you could never entirely disappear us We the realest you ever gon' see In all honesty, ain't another brother that's hotter than me Modesty'll get nowhere, that's why I go there (yeah, yeah) Like lettin you know where to buy the new Fat Joe gear (that's right) Five sixty (five sixty) only the Squad ride with me Unless you a Bad Boy, and roll with Puff Diddy (eheheheh) It's my city, and everything in it Ain't a thing rented (c'mon) it's my Benz, if you see me in it (yeah) We invented floodin the watch, and runnin the spots That's why, I'm not a player, I just crush a lot Chorus: Puff Daddy What you thought, we ain't run the streets? Now you can't sleep ten deep, convoyin in the Benz jeep Rollin deep with the Don-Tana I put the chrome in your cara, adios to manana (repeat 2X) Verse Two: Fat Joe Yea, uh, yo You better slide or catch this homicide Ain't no match for Joey Crack I'm blowin backs out the other side Brothers died and mother's cried at wakes, these are The Breaks Kurtis Blow your head off like Jake (like Jake) So take heed and read between the lines, ain't no cheatin mines Player haters never want to see my shine Up in the Range or in the Lex Coupe Rockin a fresh suit with dress shoes, on my way to Les Boo's Less choose the life we rather live, on the streets stabbin kids or livin mad sweet in lavish cribs Fix marriages for my kids, six karats, I'm a whiz (mm, mmm) Exotic tokin parrots on my wrist It ain't shit but for sex, money, and drugs True thugs with slugs and wrap bodies in rugs What the fuck, Joe Crack, twist your cap back Leave your heart rate flat, once Terror Squad attacks (yea yea yea) Chorus 2X (Puff Daddy talkin over chorus) Terror Squad, and Bad Boy Joey Crack, Big Pun I see you Can't sleep, ten deep Yea, uh-huh Adios to manana Terror Squad, what? Bad Boy, khanmean? Joey Crack, Big Pun I see you, I see you c'mon, yea, yea, say what say what? Say what say what? Uh-huh I see you.. take that.. Adios to manana! |
|||||
|
|
3:26 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Armageddon]
Yeah yeah Do you Don Cartagena solemnly swear to take this game of hip-hop as your lawfully wedded wife through sickness and health, til death do you part? [Fat Joe] I do [Armageddon] Aight then You now may spit on the bride [Fat Joe] I bet you thought I left you hangin, Joe Crack returns bangin with somethin brand spankin, what the fuck was y'all thinkin? Blow out your tweeters, have dinner with world leaders Terror Squad so much they be cats with dark caesars Fast cars and millimeters, gold cards and Visa's Givin nonbelievers ways to fly with Jesus Here's my thesis, enterprise break the block to pieces Hustler and hard pool shark like Jack Gleason The only reason I came back was for the platinum With raps, ten times more deadly than saccharin MC's be actin, I think somebody needs to slap em Run up on em attack em, and ask em what's his passion My love is rockin shows at the highest extremity This star from Trinity got your mom sayin she's feelin me Who's dealin ki's, that's peace, get your cheese, ? Pump this masterpiece at the loudest degree Chorus: Fat Joe, Armageddon (repeat 2X) Let me find out (find out) niggaz is noddin out Take some time out (time out) you wondered my whereabouts The truth is I never left you, I kept my promise (what?) Don Cartagena blessed you, now pay homage [Fat Joe] Yo fuck movin mountains, I move planets and you be Earthless Terror Squad the worst that hurt shit, split you to verses Joey Crack the world in half, Punisher punish em til they lose the hopes and dreams they had Then Armageddon finish em Yo I'm bout as braze as Satan, no exaggeratin My crew is radiatin, shinin while you playa-hation Cartagena hit em like the Red Army invasion Operatiion lace em show em what they facin, what? I've been down since the days of Flash when it was fun and laughs, before hip-hop was based on cash Let's blaze a sack and concentrate on coke inflation You know the biggest asses in United Nations Fuck the Federation, general population is hibernatin But bear witness to information that'll rock this nation I'm not God, but indeed, my mind's relatin Better act now, before your life is wasted cause time is racin Chorus 2X [Armageddon] Yeah, now do you hip-hop take Don Cartagena, as your lawfully wedded husband Now by the power invested in me, by me I pronounce you husband and wife [Fat Joe] Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze Heads beware, there's mad fear in the air Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze Knuckleheads beware, knuckleheads beware Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
featuring Armageddon
[Armageddon] Yeah yeah Do you Don Cartagena solemnly swear to take this game of hip hop as your lawfully wedded wife through sickness and health til death do you part? [Fat Joe] I do [Armageddon] Aight then You now may spit on the bride [Fat Joe] I bet you thought I left you hangin Joe Crack returns bangin with somethin brand spankin what the fuck was y'all thinkin? Blow out your tweeters, have dinner with world leaders Terror Squad so much they be cats with dark caesars Fast cars and millimeters, gold cards and Visa's Givin nonbelievers ways to fly with Jesus Here's my thesis, enterprise break the block to pieces Hustler and hard pool shark like Jack Gleason The only reason I came back was for the platinum With raps, ten times more deadly than saccharin MC's be actin, I think somebody needs to slap em Run up on em attack em, and ask em what's his passion My love is rockin shows at the highest extremity This star from Trinity got your mom sayin she's feelin me Who's dealin ki's, that's peace, get your cheese, ? Pump this masterpiece at the loudest degree Chorus: Fat Joe, Armageddon (repeat 2X) Let me find out (find out) niggaz is noddin out Take some time out (time out) you wondered my whereabouts The truth is I never left you, I kept my promise (what?) Don Cartagena blessed you, now pay homage [Fat Joe] Yo fuck movin mountains, I move planets and you be Earthless Terror Squad the worst that hurt shit, split you to verses Joey Crack the world in half, Punisher punish em til they lose the hopes and dreams they had Then Armageddon finish em Yo I'm bout as braze as Satan, no exaggeratin My crew is radiatin, shinin while you playa-hation Cartagena hit em like the Red Army invasion Operatiion lace em show em what they facin, what? I've been down since the days of Flash when it was fun and laughs, before hip-hop was based on cash Let's blaze a sack and concentrate on coke inflation You know the biggest asses in United Nations Fuck the Federation, general population is hibernatin But bear witness to information that'll rock this nation I'm not God, but indeed, my mind's relatin Better act now, before your life is wasted cause time is racin Chorus 2X [Armageddon] Yeah, now do you hip-hop take Don Cartagena, as your lawfully wedded husband Now by the power invested in me, by me I pronounce you husband and wife [Fat Joe] Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze Heads beware, there's mad fear in the air Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze Knuckleheads beware, knuckleheads beware Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
Yea What's happenin'? Bone Thugs~n~Harmony
Fat Joe Terror Squad Mo' Thugs the Good Times nigga we on top of the world [Chorus (2x): ] Good times good times [we can have a good time.. we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Yo Check my philosophy Happiness ain't all about monopoly I put aside the guns & robberies see good guys copyin' me The good times is here, rainy days is clear You want to go where everybody knows your name like "Cheers" Where problems is all the same and we got stories to share Where you don't have to look for joy in a bottle of beer See what I'm sayin? Stop feelin' sorry for yourself Besides, those shots of Jack Heed's bad for your health Understand tough people last, tough times don't Some get up off they ass, and nigga, some just won't Take the bad with the good, 'cause the good ain't far This is the stuff dreams are made of - shoot for the stars The good times [Chorus (2x): ] Good times, good times [we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration, we havin' a big celebration Celebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration, Hey we havin' a celebration Havin' a wonderful day Rememberin' the good times, and the niggas who ain't here for the celebration We roll up a blunt, and pour out the liquor Whateva you want, we got it, It's probably in there, plenty reefer, smoke is blowin' in the wind yeah Just inhale, exhale... feel it whateva your problem is, it won't be one no more And if you're laid off [Good times], Sit down and take a load off You deserve it, fuck what you heard, fuck the world And let the Buddah soothe ya, ooh ya Better not let the quicker system "Boo" ya Krayzie makes the world. I thenk God for my good times [my good times, my good times] Chorus (2x): Good times, good times [we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration we havin' a big celebration Celebration, [bration] celebration we havin a big celebration, we havin a celebration Yeah, uh, Now I'm 25, and It's a brand new scene I'm makin' rap pits straight flossin' on the TV screen Know wha' I mean, life's sweet to me In times we used to front, now speak to me I'm feelin' all right, keepin' them girls happy all night Baby hold tight, when Joey takes you for a long ride What was once a dream is now reality And I'm glad I never listened to haters thet said it'd never be Remember me? 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 your weight up, And good times'll come through. What? [what, what?] [Chorus (Repeat till Fade): ] Good times, good times [we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration we havin' a big celebration Celebration [bration], celebration, Big celebration, we havin a celebration |
|||||
|
|
3:46 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
Yea What's happenin'? Bone Thugs~n~Harmony
Fat Joe Terror Squad Mo' Thugs the Good Times nigga we on top of the world [Chorus (2x): ] Good times good times [we can have a good time.. we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Yo Check my philosophy Happiness ain't all about monopoly I put aside the guns & robberies see good guys copyin' me The good times is here, rainy days is clear You want to go where everybody knows your name like "Cheers" Where problems is all the same and we got stories to share Where you don't have to look for joy in a bottle of beer See what I'm sayin? Stop feelin' sorry for yourself Besides, those shots of Jack Heed's bad for your health Understand tough people last, tough times don't Some get up off they ass, and nigga, some just won't Take the bad with the good, 'cause the good ain't far This is the stuff dreams are made of - shoot for the stars The good times [Chorus (2x): ] Good times, good times [we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration, we havin' a big celebration Celebration, [bration] celebration, big celebration, Hey we havin' a celebration Havin' a wonderful day Rememberin' the good times, and the niggas who ain't here for the celebration We roll up a blunt, and pour out the liquor Whateva you want, we got it, It's probably in there, plenty reefer, smoke is blowin' in the wind yeah Just inhale, exhale... feel it whateva your problem is, it won't be one no more And if you're laid off [Good times], Sit down and take a load off You deserve it, fuck what you heard, fuck the world And let the Buddah soothe ya, ooh ya Better not let the quicker system "Boo" ya Krayzie makes the world. I thenk God for my good times [my good times, my good times] Chorus (2x): Good times, good times [we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration we havin' a big celebration Celebration, [bration] celebration we havin a big celebration, we havin a celebration Yeah, uh, Now I'm 25, and It's a brand new scene I'm makin' rap pits straight flossin' on the TV screen Know wha' I mean, life's sweet to me In times we used to front, now speak to me I'm feelin' all right, keepin' them girls happy all night Baby hold tight, when Joey takes you for a long ride What was once a dream is now reality And I'm glad I never listened to haters thet said it'd never be Remember me? 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 your weight up, And good times'll come through. What? [what, what?] [Chorus (Repeat till Fade): ] Good times, good times [we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration] We could take some stress off our chest Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration we havin' a big celebration Celebration [bration], celebration, Big celebration, we havin a celebration |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998) | |||||
|
|
4:50 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Big Punisher Jadakiss Nas Raekwon]
Verse One: Nas My stripes show like regiments military intelligence Murder game I leave no evidence credentials Go ask my pre school even talk to my old principal He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil Stabbin students grabbin teachers Catholics preachers In the school staircase cuttin class passin my reefer In my own class operation return, they tried to say I was incompetent, not able to learn The table turned now, got my own label to earn Like that nigga said in _Dead Presidents_, money to burn Queensbridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vet Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest between Latin Kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in Spanish So many thugs vanish, unite the system to fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison Verse Two: Big Punisher My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die Just give me one try -- 'Now you know you done fucked up right?' Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa Hit the basa, you ain't even in my clasa I hate a actor that plays a rapper I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper Grand imperial college material insane criminal The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral I reign subliminal inside your visual Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter I'm even better than before, iller metaphors Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all Chorus: scratches by DJ Spinbad J-J-J-John Blaze Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze "Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed!" --> Method Man Verse Three: Jadakiss Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for 'Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin Verse Four: Raekwon My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear Strike me out God, stackin up joints, rack em like Footlocker This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent Here to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stall Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness Lex, imagination large, gold cards Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God Specialist, iciclist, Woolridge collar Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why broke niggaz who got heart God, sign em up Start the wind up, we John Blazin, Don up in the line up Chorus Verse Five: Fat Joe It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts for fuckin with my funds on the first And go to church like a mobster Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my Cuban partners Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot Run up on any block, disrespect any cop Used to run many spots, now I own shops Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop I'm hot, who want to get burned? I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed Chorus 2X |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Big Punisher Jadakiss Nas Raekwon]
Verse One: Nas My stripes show like regiments military intelligence Murder game I leave no evidence credentials Go ask my pre school even talk to my old principal He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil Stabbin students grabbin teachers Catholics preachers In the school staircase cuttin class passin my reefer In my own class operation return, they tried to say I was incompetent, not able to learn The table turned now, got my own label to earn Like that nigga said in _Dead Presidents_, money to burn Queensbridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vet Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin that I'm just the best, puttin all violence to rest between Latin Kings the blood _los sangres_, blood in Spanish So many thugs vanish, unite the system to fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison Verse Two: Big Punisher My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die Just give me one try -- 'Now you know you done fucked up right?' Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa Hit the basa, you ain't even in my clasa I hate a actor that plays a rapper I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper Grand imperial college material insane criminal The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral I reign subliminal inside your visual Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you Soon as I chitter chatter you shitter shatter, I'm the kid out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter I'm even better than before, iller metaphors Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all Chorus: scratches by DJ Spinbad J-J-J-John Blaze Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze "Johnny Blaze ain't a damn thing changed!" --> Method Man Verse Three: Jadakiss Aiyyo my attitude is subject to change, I mess around and spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for 'Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show Put your money on the table, we could battle on cable y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin Verse Four: Raekwon My son cool out (what) don't beef yo, throw the tool out Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat in the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear Strike me out God, stackin up joints, rack em like Footlocker This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent Here to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stall Relentless, the anthology consolidated with the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse, killer sickness Lex, imagination large, gold cards Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God Specialist, iciclist, Woolridge collar Feelin the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why broke niggaz who got heart God, sign em up Start the wind up, we John Blazin, Don up in the line up Chorus Verse Five: Fat Joe It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns til it hurts for fuckin with my funds on the first And go to church like a mobster Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster, with my Cuban partners Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot Run up on any block, disrespect any cop Used to run many spots, now I own shops Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop I'm hot, who want to get burned? I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin head turn You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed Chorus 2X |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Noreaga]
intro: [police sirens] [Noreaga and Fat Joe talking] [Fat Joe] Yo yo one's for the cash two's for my facilty three's for all the M 3's Racin across the Tapenze ?Matchin see's? followed by the white Lincoln drivin like I ain't thinkin Wit my hats and lights blinkin let the lah sink in On the way to home BASE first clown in my face is gettin thrown out the place We rush shit, untouchable Don shit, that's nothin new Sets with stone arms just to muscle you, enough of you That had a bad case of Joe, some even had to go Gangsta walk and nines, at times I be the last to know We laugh and joke, while we bag in the coke My A done make the worst things out the cast of Different Strokes I'm addicted to street life, although it doesn't seem right Many criticize but yo we all go to eat right? And who's to say that I'm to blame(blame) we only pawns in this game(game) Decision: grow cocaine I don't want no cure for this, you switch, I pour the Cris And just, stay rich, and reminisce, while I count my chips Chorus [Noreaga] Yo you scared to death, misery need company Crab slackers, niggas actin like they mad rappers Even wit a record deal, our guns still peal Break a piece of your brain, wipe the stain Throw the Range off, police-iano Watch for hondo, they lookin at our poster now, playin us closer now The funds follow us, what, these bitches swallow us And you wonder why you can't find us [Fat Joe] I ?ton and tender? wit millionaires, gave a million stares Made a million scared, my beats don' knocked For what seemed like a million years, yea This illegal life I can't avoid, I take the feds everywhere I go That's why I'm paranoid, but still I choose to ignore the fact I got the flawless Acs wit gats to get that enormous stack Joey Crack, the mack without the hat And all our hoes dine and ride in the back seat of my Cadillac I bet you hate it 'cause we paid and floss, nigga we laid and lost T.S.'ll make the baddest crews take a loss Break your balls like Bahondo, call me Don Joe Coke slash sweaty rock, niggas drop a dime dough Booked the nine o'clock, flight to Alando So-called killers turned snitches like Rivono That nigga Gauno up in M-see, is bein friendly Everytime I see his wife and kids the shit tempts me My heart is empty, never feelin remorse I got a sniper one killed in the cross ready to kill your boss Chorus [Noreaga] Yo, yo Jose Luis, smoke lah like the reverand Look in the skies, clouds look like coke 'n heaven Like whoever sittin on pies two, gettin high too mad fly too, a thug too Yo we praise those, however you make your pesos Keep the shit tight just like, Jose Canseco's Batting stance, a majorly we glance, and gotta yell "What, What!" 'cause thug niggas don't dance yo I told niggas, that you did it for show, but niggas thought you was ill yo Even your hoe, yo for real youngblood I'm really afraid so Your colors got revealed and now you buy dough Impost-o's, locos, morenos, go-golos, boriquas, platin-o's My niggas rollin those, fontos and hydros You know how that goes, DE's light it up though We stay smokin it, tone-locin it, me and Fat Joe still provoking it Chorus (ha ha, mad rappers, stain off, range off, watch out polic-iano's, pabolos amigos...Fat Joe, Fat Joe, Fat Joe, yea yea) |
|||||
|
|
4:21 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Noreaga]
intro: [police sirens] [Noreaga and Fat Joe talking] [Fat Joe] Yo yo one's for the cash two's for my facilty three's for all the M 3's Racin across the Tapenze ?Matchin see's? followed by the white Lincoln drivin like I ain't thinkin Wit my hats and lights blinkin let the lah sink in On the way to home BASE first clown in my face is gettin thrown out the place We rush shit, untouchable Don shit, that's nothin new Sets with stone arms just to muscle you, enough of you That had a bad case of Joe, some even had to go Gangsta walk and nines, at times I be the last to know We laugh and joke, while we bag in the coke My A done make the worst things out the cast of Different Strokes I'm addicted to street life, although it doesn't seem right Many criticize but yo we all go to eat right? And who's to say that I'm to blame(blame) we only pawns in this game(game) Decision: grow cocaine I don't want no cure for this, you switch, I pour the Cris And just, stay rich, and reminisce, while I count my chips Chorus [Noreaga] Yo you scared to death, misery need company Crab slackers, niggas actin like they mad rappers Even wit a record deal, our guns still peal Break a piece of your brain, wipe the stain Throw the Range off, police-iano Watch for hondo, they lookin at our poster now, playin us closer now The funds follow us, what, these bitches swallow us And you wonder why you can't find us [Fat Joe] I ?ton and tender? wit millionaires, gave a million stares Made a million scared, my beats don' knocked For what seemed like a million years, yea This illegal life I can't avoid, I take the feds everywhere I go That's why I'm paranoid, but still I choose to ignore the fact I got the flawless Acs wit gats to get that enormous stack Joey Crack, the mack without the hat And all our hoes dine and ride in the back seat of my Cadillac I bet you hate it 'cause we paid and floss, nigga we laid and lost T.S.'ll make the baddest crews take a loss Break your balls like Bahondo, call me Don Joe Coke slash sweaty rock, niggas drop a dime dough Booked the nine o'clock, flight to Alando So-called killers turned snitches like Rivono That nigga Gauno up in M-see, is bein friendly Everytime I see his wife and kids the shit tempts me My heart is empty, never feelin remorse I got a sniper one killed in the cross ready to kill your boss Chorus [Noreaga] Yo, yo Jose Luis, smoke lah like the reverand Look in the skies, clouds look like coke 'n heaven Like whoever sittin on pies two, gettin high too mad fly too, a thug too Yo we praise those, however you make your pesos Keep the shit tight just like, Jose Canseco's Batting stance, a majorly we glance, and gotta yell "What, What!" 'cause thug niggas don't dance yo I told niggas, that you did it for show, but niggas thought you was ill yo Even your hoe, yo for real youngblood I'm really afraid so Your colors got revealed and now you buy dough Impost-o's, locos, morenos, go-golos, boriquas, platin-o's My niggas rollin those, fontos and hydros You know how that goes, DE's light it up though We stay smokin it, tone-locin it, me and Fat Joe still provoking it Chorus (ha ha, mad rappers, stain off, range off, watch out polic-iano's, pabolos amigos...Fat Joe, Fat Joe, Fat Joe, yea yea) |
|||||
|
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Armageddon]
[Armageddon] Yo yea yea T.S. T.S. Armageddon Terror Squad It's my world (uhh) It's my world (uhh) What? Check this out yo It's my life it's my world my prerogative to push things and chase girls who dress provacative Terror Squad lock ice ? than Yugoslavians Run up in your building bust locks and pull the lobby in Find me in the titty bars pollyin with Mafians Got drunk and did somethin, now I'm hardly in the party and check the book in my Cardigan, it's sort of like my guardian Bless you with a halo and wings, on your back origin Armageddon bring the gates of heaven and bring the horror in Burnin last testaments, sinnin where all the garbage went Dominant, pull out the nine and spit, murder anonymous The finest bitch couldn't make me make monogamous promises First ? bitch, movin guns out of Providence Stackin paper like novelists, complicated like calculus Raps are marvelous, it's like I been here before Niggaz is actin up, but we ain't gettin frisked at the door, uhh Chorus: repeat 2X It's my life, it's my world, my prerogative to push things and chase girls who dress provacative Terror Squad, bottom line is we be rockin it The first stages of Armageddon and ain't no stoppin this My beats, my rhymes, join forces and form the hammer lock Trample box from Babylon to Camelot I turn sand to rock Slim's my man to heart, though he like to keep me amped a lot Your girl's ample hot, man I love the way she handle cock Blazin since the sample dropped, never will the glamour stop Claimin that you're vandal all you seen is roman candles pop Turn the hands on clocks and blow you back to your essence Then I'll go back in time and stomp your ass back to the present Packin the Wesson, actin unpleasant, Terror Squad shot on your presence We handle our blessings, just lay us where the baddest is resting Took this rap game, molded and mastered it Blast my shit, this song shames, any records played after it Bag the fattest whips with passengers that'll flip and piss on your body after blowin your lungs out the back of it Activists with guns, bring forth my arrival Armageddon's now, forget about the words in the Bible Chorus 2X |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Armageddon]
[Armageddon] Yo yea yea T.S. T.S. Armageddon Terror Squad It's my world (uhh) It's my world (uhh) What? Check this out yo It's my life it's my world my prerogative to push things and chase girls who dress provacative Terror Squad lock ice ? than Yugoslavians Run up in your building bust locks and pull the lobby in Find me in the titty bars pollyin with Mafians Got drunk and did somethin, now I'm hardly in the party and check the book in my Cardigan, it's sort of like my guardian Bless you with a halo and wings, on your back origin Armageddon bring the gates of heaven and bring the horror in Burnin last testaments, sinnin where all the garbage went Dominant, pull out the nine and spit, murder anonymous The finest bitch couldn't make me make monogamous promises First ? bitch, movin guns out of Providence Stackin paper like novelists, complicated like calculus Raps are marvelous, it's like I been here before Niggaz is actin up, but we ain't gettin frisked at the door, uhh Chorus: repeat 2X It's my life, it's my world, my prerogative to push things and chase girls who dress provacative Terror Squad, bottom line is we be rockin it The first stages of Armageddon and ain't no stoppin this My beats, my rhymes, join forces and form the hammer lock Trample box from Babylon to Camelot I turn sand to rock Slim's my man to heart, though he like to keep me amped a lot Your girl's ample hot, man I love the way she handle cock Blazin since the sample dropped, never will the glamour stop Claimin that you're vandal all you seen is roman candles pop Turn the hands on clocks and blow you back to your essence Then I'll go back in time and stomp your ass back to the present Packin the Wesson, actin unpleasant, Terror Squad shot on your presence We handle our blessings, just lay us where the baddest is resting Took this rap game, molded and mastered it Blast my shit, this song shames, any records played after it Bag the fattest whips with passengers that'll flip and piss on your body after blowin your lungs out the back of it Activists with guns, bring forth my arrival Armageddon's now, forget about the words in the Bible Chorus 2X |
|||||
|
|
3:57 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Big Pun]
Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Uh Lotta money in here Uh Terror Squad Now and forever Top of the world Tun Yeah uh Yeah uh They call me Joey Crack my name'll never be forgotten livin' in the NY city that's rotten niggas on the block still screamin' and plottin' Wonderin' if my squad gon stop bubblin' But we not 'cause we all still shinin' You average We floss four karat diamonds Layin' up in the plushes suite Wit the thuggish freaks She love to eat plus bust the heat We touch the streets wit the same principles Everyday gotta get this cash know it makes sense to you Joe Crack one in a million Get cash from drug deals But still keep the weapons concealed build wit the gods today's madd fast cars who copped what and got shot comin' out the bar My repitore is far beyond belief y'all ain't much to me Honestly you can't fuck wit me (Chorus)-Big Pun It's my life, my money, my world My girls, TS electrify the sky like the 3rd rail Want us to fail 'cause you on our dick But as long as every song is rich you can't tell me shit We been doin' this since Prince was the bomb Before he changed his name and started making wack songs Before the trigger talk and the heat wit chalk was our last resort and niggas took it to the streets I live the plush life Nothing on my wrist but crushed ice Bumpin' the heist in the GS wit the bug lights Just the life that the playa portrays Lookin' laced in my FJ560's It's many ways that we gon get it Look how many years we don did it cop land and build a home in it That's all I ever wanted dreamed of create a mean buzz Slick C.R.E.A.M. and show my team love You see us on B.E.T. Rockin' ice blue suits pardon the jewlery Is the same fat kid from the Ave of Trinity It's been around three years since my last LP But it gets no better than this consecutive hits You on some Jealous Ones Envy shit conpetitive bitch I got my enemies mapped out No doubt take the leer jet to Cali there's a party up at Shaq's house You don't want to compare counts pull ya stash out the ultraviolet from my ice will make you pass out My niggas force black outs shoot up ya skate key You love to hate me pushin' the dope ass ride doin' a hundred-eighty (Chorus)-Big Pun (Ad-lib til end) Yeah, gon ride for you Yeah, uh, uh, uh Gon ride for you Gon ride for you (Ha, Ha, Ha, Huh) Yeah, We gon ride for you We gon ride for you Yeah, We gon ride for you, motherfuckin' gon ride for you Ha, yeah, Everybody in the struggle Hold ya head baby, Uh Yeah, Charli Rock LD, Big Surge, Big Frank, Big O Huh, We gon ride for you, best believe I'ma ride for you Ha, ha, yeah I'm gon ride for you, best believe we gon ride for you Terror Squad, 9-8, New millennium Joey Crack, realness 1 (7X's) Tony Montana, Yeah what |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Big Pun]
Yeah Yeah Yeah Yeah Uh Lotta money in here Uh Terror Squad Now and forever Top of the world Tun Yeah uh Yeah uh They call me Joey Crack my name'll never be forgotten livin' in the NY city that's rotten niggas on the block still screamin' and plottin' Wonderin' if my squad gon stop bubblin' But we not 'cause we all still shinin' You average We floss four karat diamonds Layin' up in the plushes suite Wit the thuggish freaks She love to eat plus bust the heat We touch the streets wit the same principles Everyday gotta get this cash know it makes sense to you Joe Crack one in a million Get cash from drug deals But still keep the weapons concealed build wit the gods today's madd fast cars who copped what and got shot comin' out the bar My repitore is far beyond belief y'all ain't much to me Honestly you can't fuck wit me (Chorus)-Big Pun It's my life, my money, my world My girls, TS electrify the sky like the 3rd rail Want us to fail 'cause you on our dick But as long as every song is rich you can't tell me shit We been doin' this since Prince was the bomb Before he changed his name and started making wack songs Before the trigger talk and the heat wit chalk was our last resort and niggas took it to the streets I live the plush life Nothing on my wrist but crushed ice Bumpin' the heist in the GS wit the bug lights Just the life that the playa portrays Lookin' laced in my FJ560's It's many ways that we gon get it Look how many years we don did it cop land and build a home in it That's all I ever wanted dreamed of create a mean buzz Slick C.R.E.A.M. and show my team love You see us on B.E.T. Rockin' ice blue suits pardon the jewlery Is the same fat kid from the Ave of Trinity It's been around three years since my last LP But it gets no better than this consecutive hits You on some Jealous Ones Envy shit conpetitive bitch I got my enemies mapped out No doubt take the leer jet to Cali there's a party up at Shaq's house You don't want to compare counts pull ya stash out the ultraviolet from my ice will make you pass out My niggas force black outs shoot up ya skate key You love to hate me pushin' the dope ass ride doin' a hundred-eighty (Chorus)-Big Pun (Ad-lib til end) Yeah, gon ride for you Yeah, uh, uh, uh Gon ride for you Gon ride for you (Ha, Ha, Ha, Huh) Yeah, We gon ride for you We gon ride for you Yeah, We gon ride for you, motherfuckin' gon ride for you Ha, yeah, Everybody in the struggle Hold ya head baby, Uh Yeah, Charli Rock LD, Big Surge, Big Frank, Big O Huh, We gon ride for you, best believe I'ma ride for you Ha, ha, yeah I'm gon ride for you, best believe we gon ride for you Terror Squad, 9-8, New millennium Joey Crack, realness 1 (7X's) Tony Montana, Yeah what |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
<i>[Fat Joe]</i>
Terror Squad. Ungh. Now why you wanna go and fuck with them? Platinum status, motherfuckers. Eat a dick! Now who's the underated pro, they scared to play on the radio? Who lives the lyrics, all my real niggas already know Flow for flow, no crew can step to us And blow for blow, I'm pretty sure that you heard the rumors I give tumors to niggas and comas to bitches No one's against us, roll with the riches and float with the fishes The revolution has started thats why I'm undercarded My Squad will turn to the most feared into the dearly departed As hard as they come, they all fall like the Great Wall Make no mistake, I take you straight to the state morgue Swarmin informers like cops at drug corners Feds got the bugs on us, tryin to lay the law on us They want us in jails, with bails too high to bond, but am I the Don? Shit, I'll be out by the morn', word bond My game is on lock, till you bawl cop And its never ever gonna stop <i>[Prospect]</i> Yo, yo, I play the game with caution Sun changes, gave power creative activities bring fame and fortune Why can't you live this? All day hands on bitches With financial ventures, enhance the riches Gotta hold the cake, my grandmoms had dreams but it seems I couldn't graduate or go to Drake It hurts at nights I gots to reimburse the vice Niggaz is worse than shiest for the merchandise My words precise, cause if not I wouldn't speak it I rock shit everyday of the week, especially the weekends Outside, these pretty clothes I live, but with the titty-ho Knock a nigga out, for the shit he stole We already degraded, me and my family the most hated Bitch were barely both made it See the thinly related, to everything in the street I'm sellin coke, crack, and dope, plus swingin the heat <i>[Chorus: Triple Seis]</i> We got drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin Slugs killin, ya touch feelin, just for the thrillin We bust feelins, dump bodies in crushed buildings Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin I thought you knew you had... Drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin Slugs killin, ya touch feelin, just for the thrillin We bust feelins, dump bodies in crushed buildings Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin (And it don't stop!) <i>[Cuban Link]</i> I got rubies on my Uzi's and gems on my Mack 10's Diamonds on my nines and golden bullets just to match them Platinum magnums with silver clips, real begets Shit, I'm gonna milk this bitch till I'm filthy rich Filled with chips from the floor to the ceiling Just flossin and chillin in a Porsche full-a-women I'm one in a million, get on the deal already My skills are sharper than a steel Maschetti Realer than the military Killin every track I'm on, Link and Joey Crack the Don Flippin in my Cuban Caddy, wit the hazards on <i>[Triple Seis]</i> So, come on if you gon' ride with us, live niggas Hop with us, quick to try to triple five figures <i>[Big Punisher]</i> Your style is unoffic', niggaz like you stay on my wanted list Pun and Prince, we're walkin on kings, like a son-of-a-bitch Fuckin with this is hazardous to amateur battlers Average niggas get lost in the course of embarassment Of course you dont have a chance, I'm the boss in your emminence Get tossed in the ambulance with the force of an avalanche I'll torture your fragile ass with rhetorical paragraphs For all of you that'll laugh at a historical aftermath! I come equipped, my tongue and lips are like a hundred clips Look behind you, I'll blind you like when the sun eclipse Ain't no second chances, I glance at niggas make em wet they pants The chances are slim if Twinz done swing the rest of the ransome The best and the champion, that means I'm far beyond Dionne read my palm, told me to get on and put my army on Come along, follow the Don, my motto and song Live for tomorrow, cause today's almost already gone Lets get on, split your belly with the Maschetti, long Tears your arms of your shoulders, and tell you to, hold on I know it's wrong, but it feels so right I used to bust steel all night, but now I gotta deal, alright <i>[Chorus 2X]</i> <i>[Armageddon]</i> Fuck a Toe to Toe, give me a forty-four and a foe to blow To make it more dramatic, I quote Jehovah holding the scroll Open your skull, show you shit you ain't supposed to know Break the world in half and spit the ocean from coast to coast (Just to let you know) That I'm zone coasted And play the visuals from the top of my verse back in slow-motion Assassinate the Pope with no emotions So why should I hesitate to crush a campaign like I wasn't votin? My brain floatin away, above you niggas like I make time pause Checkin my Rollie watch my diamond Roman digits Golden riches, better hold em bitches Cause we robbin niggas way before the translation of Holy Scriptures I was Armageddon before the motion picture The last nigga to drop his verse and have the globe shiftin My Squad's hard and far from Puritans Robbin and killin men like we proud to be Americans <i>[Chorus]</i> |
|||||
|
|
5:07 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
<i>[Fat Joe]</i>
Terror Squad. Ungh. Now why you wanna go and fuck with them? Platinum status, motherfuckers. Eat a dick! Now who's the underated pro, they scared to play on the radio? Who lives the lyrics, all my real niggas already know Flow for flow, no crew can step to us And blow for blow, I'm pretty sure that you heard the rumors I give tumors to niggas and comas to bitches No one's against us, roll with the riches and float with the fishes The revolution has started thats why I'm undercarded My Squad will turn to the most feared into the dearly departed As hard as they come, they all fall like the Great Wall Make no mistake, I take you straight to the state morgue Swarmin informers like cops at drug corners Feds got the bugs on us, tryin to lay the law on us They want us in jails, with bails too high to bond, but am I the Don? Shit, I'll be out by the morn', word bond My game is on lock, till you bawl cop And its never ever gonna stop <i>[Prospect]</i> Yo, yo, I play the game with caution Sun changes, gave power creative activities bring fame and fortune Why can't you live this? All day hands on bitches With financial ventures, enhance the riches Gotta hold the cake, my grandmoms had dreams but it seems I couldn't graduate or go to Drake It hurts at nights I gots to reimburse the vice Niggaz is worse than shiest for the merchandise My words precise, cause if not I wouldn't speak it I rock shit everyday of the week, especially the weekends Outside, these pretty clothes I live, but with the titty-ho Knock a nigga out, for the shit he stole We already degraded, me and my family the most hated Bitch were barely both made it See the thinly related, to everything in the street I'm sellin coke, crack, and dope, plus swingin the heat <i>[Chorus: Triple Seis]</i> We got drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin Slugs killin, ya touch feelin, just for the thrillin We bust feelins, dump bodies in crushed buildings Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin I thought you knew you had... Drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin Slugs killin, ya touch feelin, just for the thrillin We bust feelins, dump bodies in crushed buildings Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin (And it don't stop!) <i>[Cuban Link]</i> I got rubies on my Uzi's and gems on my Mack 10's Diamonds on my nines and golden bullets just to match them Platinum magnums with silver clips, real begets Shit, I'm gonna milk this bitch till I'm filthy rich Filled with chips from the floor to the ceiling Just flossin and chillin in a Porsche full-a-women I'm one in a million, get on the deal already My skills are sharper than a steel Maschetti Realer than the military Killin every track I'm on, Link and Joey Crack the Don Flippin in my Cuban Caddy, wit the hazards on <i>[Triple Seis]</i> So, come on if you gon' ride with us, live niggas Hop with us, quick to try to triple five figures <i>[Big Punisher]</i> Your style is unoffic', niggaz like you stay on my wanted list Pun and Prince, we're walkin on kings, like a son-of-a-bitch Fuckin with this is hazardous to amateur battlers Average niggas get lost in the course of embarassment Of course you dont have a chance, I'm the boss in your emminence Get tossed in the ambulance with the force of an avalanche I'll torture your fragile ass with rhetorical paragraphs For all of you that'll laugh at a historical aftermath! I come equipped, my tongue and lips are like a hundred clips Look behind you, I'll blind you like when the sun eclipse Ain't no second chances, I glance at niggas make em wet they pants The chances are slim if Twinz done swing the rest of the ransome The best and the champion, that means I'm far beyond Dionne read my palm, told me to get on and put my army on Come along, follow the Don, my motto and song Live for tomorrow, cause today's almost already gone Lets get on, split your belly with the Maschetti, long Tears your arms of your shoulders, and tell you to, hold on I know it's wrong, but it feels so right I used to bust steel all night, but now I gotta deal, alright <i>[Chorus 2X]</i> <i>[Armageddon]</i> Fuck a Toe to Toe, give me a forty-four and a foe to blow To make it more dramatic, I quote Jehovah holding the scroll Open your skull, show you shit you ain't supposed to know Break the world in half and spit the ocean from coast to coast (Just to let you know) That I'm zone coasted And play the visuals from the top of my verse back in slow-motion Assassinate the Pope with no emotions So why should I hesitate to crush a campaign like I wasn't votin? My brain floatin away, above you niggas like I make time pause Checkin my Rollie watch my diamond Roman digits Golden riches, better hold em bitches Cause we robbin niggas way before the translation of Holy Scriptures I was Armageddon before the motion picture The last nigga to drop his verse and have the globe shiftin My Squad's hard and far from Puritans Robbin and killin men like we proud to be Americans <i>[Chorus]</i> |
|||||
|
|
2:55 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
Yea, uhh
"I bet you thought I left you hangin" Yea yea, yeah "I bet you thought I left you hangin" Terror Squad again.. long overdue baby "I-I-I bet you thought I left you hangin" Don Cartagena, bring you the best in hardcore hip-hop "J-J-Joe Crack returns bangin" Yea, uhh Yo it's the Don of rap, sippin Cognac, hit you on the back with the Mac (CLAK CLAK) slip you into cardiac It's the art of rap at the illest form from a killer's point of view, who thrives off the area jealous ones You could tell it's on from my introduction Hibernate the junction with killin somethin when you was barely dumpin You ain't even nuttin to worry about I flurried your mouth, with about thirty right in front of your house Then I'm hurryin out in the expedition, professional hit men The vestibule shit from the credible disses Federals is listenin to my conversations, tapin all the songs I'm makin Shakin down every ounce of my congregation John Blazin, raisin the stakes, changin your fate Tied up in my basement with a gauge in your face Make no mistake, that's how I do my thing Blow out a lot of brains, I'm sayin, it's not a game "Take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep (repeat 4X) Uhh, uhh, yea Joe Crack takin a L and make Tone roll over in his grave, never that T.S. got his dreams and discourage the brave, remember that I been bustin guns since the infamous days of leather hats Varsity sweaters with big letters black Pushin the illest whips down fifty-fifth where killers riff, without havin to split Phillies and sniff And Willies who shift jobs from Chili willin to leave you stiff Fulfillin my biggest wish, in this illegal shit Quarter Maris stay slugger with karats, never offered marriage When my corpse is carried my moms'll get all my cabbage Terror Squad is savage, draped in the finest of fabrics Floss like it's a habit, eight shot up in my Louis baggage You knew we knew we had you, lay half your crew in gravel Caught you slippin with your Boo and started shootin at you Out of captivity, left Relativity Now we on the Big-ger Beat, Terror Squad trilogy, what? "Take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep (repeat 8X) |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
Yea, uhh
"I bet you thought I left you hangin" Yea yea, yeah "I bet you thought I left you hangin" Terror Squad again.. long overdue baby "I-I-I bet you thought I left you hangin" Don Cartagena, bring you the best in hardcore hip-hop "J-J-Joe Crack returns bangin" Yea, uhh Yo it's the Don of rap, sippin Cognac, hit you on the back with the Mac (CLAK CLAK) slip you into cardiac It's the art of rap at the illest form from a killer's point of view, who thrives off the area jealous ones You could tell it's on from my introduction Hibernate the junction with killin somethin when you was barely dumpin You ain't even nuttin to worry about I flurried your mouth, with about thirty right in front of your house Then I'm hurryin out in the expedition, professional hit men The vestibule shit from the credible disses Federals is listenin to my conversations, tapin all the songs I'm makin Shakin down every ounce of my congregation John Blazin, raisin the stakes, changin your fate Tied up in my basement with a gauge in your face Make no mistake, that's how I do my thing Blow out a lot of brains, I'm sayin, it's not a game "Take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" - <i>[Mobb Deep]</i> <i>[repeat 4X]</i> Uhh, uhh, yea Joe Crack takin a L and make Tone roll over in his grave, never that T.S. got his dreams and discourage the brave, remember that I been bustin guns since the infamous days of leather hats Varsity sweaters with big letters black Pushin the illest whips down fifty-fifth where killers riff, without havin to split Phillies and sniff And Willies who shift jobs from Chili willin to leave you stiff Fulfillin my biggest wish, in this illegal shit Quarter Maris stay slugger with karats, never offered marriage When my corpse is carried my moms'll get all my cabbage Terror Squad is savage, draped in the finest of fabrics Floss like it's a habit, eight shot up in my Louis baggage You knew we knew we had you, lay half your crew in gravel Caught you slippin with your Boo and started shootin at you Out of captivity, left Relativity Now we on the Big-ger Beat, Terror Squad trilogy, what? "Take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" - <i>[Mobb Deep]</i> <i>[repeat 8X]</i> |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
<i>[Fat Joe]</i>
Yea, time to educate the youth (Speak on it God) Cause if we won't, then who will? (True) Terror Squad style, yo (Speak on it God) Yo, I was a wild adolescent, blessed with the foul essence Messin around with the wrong crowd, I learned my lesson Stressin all the things that I have not I pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot I hear mad shots, homicide come and play Matlock but never crack the case cause the defendant's a bad cop You feel me fam? The devil's got a plan That's why Farrakhan formed a Million Man up in Washington The Hidden Hand even planned this man Have me goin hand to hand, killin my own clan But now I understand and see the big picture Fuck cryin about the struggle, I teach you how to get richer <i>[Cuban Link]</i> Shit is a hassle in this rotten apple, kids robbin coppin capsules Rockin tattoos, boppin with ankles locked in shackles Got the cops joggin at you, spittin rounds of clips, they down wit it New clowns'll make you feel as if the Bill of Rights is counterfeit Now it's been written that all men are equal, but then it's legal when they beat us and treat us as if we're different people We go for delf, fuck the cop's health I'd rather drop shelf and let off shots until my Glock melts Cause God dealt us a helpless hand, they made us sell this land so the palest man could build a selfish plan You know we can't trust the government, cause Uncle Sam is smugglin drugs for us to hustle all the stuff for him Even McGruff is in it, gettin a percentage Takin advantage, punishin just blacks and hispanics <i>[Big Punisher]</i> My heart is cold as ice, so I know I'm sheist, Big Pun was the kid that no one liked, my whole life, is one big roll of the dice Payin a price twice as expensive as white kids Destined for Riker's not knowin my existance was priceless IT'S LIKE THIS, my soul was lifeless, I earned stripes fightin the nicest in the crisis I slice em in half and make em dash like hyphens, invitin any rapper to Clash With the Titan The writing's like fighting cause rappers be biting like Tyson I'm hypein the crowd, keepin em Loud like my label I'm proud I'm able to lift from the bowels of the ghetto I found me a little sanity inside a career and a family No more wars and renderin tears to insanity So keep the salary and tear the mic, cause I love it There's my life, you judge it, fuck it Seis, I don't want it <i>[Triple Seis]</i> I'm a Dominican, stranded in New York like Filligan Don't wanna get locked up in the pen again But here they come, the faggots and cuffs, searchin for guns Turnin they ride on the side of the curb to see who runs They authorize the beast to walk the streets holdin heat Four deep, we puff production, my cheek, you know my steez Fuck the police, usin "probable cause" to break laws Behind the badge you try to cover up your racial war I got somethin for you boys in blue The system poisoned you, blew your cover, now what you supposed to do? I never let the faggot pull the trig first It won't be no American flag over my hearse What's worse, you know they disperse for bucks So take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks <i>[Armaggedon]</i> This dude, he had the darkest pads Who dressed up in the heart of brash Forever talkin trash How he stacked niggaz to almanac Gunshots to corner four police informants Stood like he modeled the latest fashions, sidewalk sideshow performance He raised the pull of grace, a razor blew his face Force calm the ?sere? plus a pack of the ?dunga dun? laced with toothpaste Life ain't to be gambled son, you could get trampled by people that act more like animals than mammals high off enamel That's what his poppa said whose locked for droppin Akmed in the candy store robbery probably to get his veins fed He ain't listen, he became a braindead cocaine head Older Mexicans knew, they killed him eatin ?bagualitos? But hey little kids, don't follow these dopes <i>[Prospect]</i> What? Uh-huh, yea I can dig that They call me Prospect, I just came back from ? Had this track on pause, now I'm back on course It's lost on the Ave, tryin to take my life from the past Get this legal cash, ? without dad Kinda sad how he got dragged down to negativity Only if he had one love, trust for liberty this world would be a better place, get what it takes in a race to racism replace the snake in em Bad ones, want to spend lives and discriminate I'm tryin to keep this positive vibe, and from that I generate to the top, like Puffy won't stop I'm mature now, with one knot, from tryin to get locked And to the shorties on the block, tryin to twist 40 tops Get your act together, do some carpentry with a Black n Decker And stop speedin like a Kawasaki From my life, to your life, I'm touchin everybody Twinz watch me Everything we speak is the truth From Prospect to Munroe, here in a hot second The whole world run know, everything we speak is the truth Terror Squad |
|||||
|
|
5:06 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
<i>[Fat Joe]</i>
Yea, time to educate the youth (Speak on it God) Cause if we won't, then who will? (True) Terror Squad style, yo (Speak on it God) Yo, I was a wild adolescent, blessed with the foul essence Messin around with the wrong crowd, I learned my lesson Stressin all the things that I have not I pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot I hear mad shots, homicide come and play Matlock but never crack the case cause the defendant's a bad cop You feel me fam? The devil's got a plan That's why Farrakhan formed a Million Man up in Washington The Hidden Hand even planned this man Have me goin hand to hand, killin my own clan But now I understand and see the big picture Fuck cryin about the struggle, I teach you how to get richer <i>[Cuban Link]</i> Shit is a hassle in this rotten apple, kids robbin coppin capsules Rockin tattoos, boppin with ankles locked in shackles Got the cops joggin at you, spittin rounds of clips, they down wit it New clowns'll make you feel as if the Bill of Rights is counterfeit Now it's been written that all men are equal, but then it's legal when they beat us and treat us as if we're different people We go for delf, fuck the cop's health I'd rather drop shelf and let off shots until my Glock melts Cause God dealt us a helpless hand, they made us sell this land so the palest man could build a selfish plan You know we can't trust the government, cause Uncle Sam is smugglin drugs for us to hustle all the stuff for him Even McGruff is in it, gettin a percentage Takin advantage, punishin just blacks and hispanics <i>[Big Punisher]</i> My heart is cold as ice, so I know I'm sheist, Big Pun was the kid that no one liked, my whole life, is one big roll of the dice Payin a price twice as expensive as white kids Destined for Riker's not knowin my existance was priceless IT'S LIKE THIS, my soul was lifeless, I earned stripes fightin the nicest in the crisis I slice em in half and make em dash like hyphens, invitin any rapper to Clash With the Titan The writing's like fighting cause rappers be biting like Tyson I'm hypein the crowd, keepin em Loud like my label I'm proud I'm able to lift from the bowels of the ghetto I found me a little sanity inside a career and a family No more wars and renderin tears to insanity So keep the salary and tear the mic, cause I love it There's my life, you judge it, fuck it Seis, I don't want it <i>[Triple Seis]</i> I'm a Dominican, stranded in New York like Filligan Don't wanna get locked up in the pen again But here they come, the faggots and cuffs, searchin for guns Turnin they ride on the side of the curb to see who runs They authorize the beast to walk the streets holdin heat Four deep, we puff production, my cheek, you know my steez Fuck the police, usin "probable cause" to break laws Behind the badge you try to cover up your racial war I got somethin for you boys in blue The system poisoned you, blew your cover, now what you supposed to do? I never let the faggot pull the trig first It won't be no American flag over my hearse What's worse, you know they disperse for bucks So take caution in the streets cause our protection sucks <i>[Armaggedon]</i> This dude, he had the darkest pads Who dressed up in the heart of brash Forever talkin trash How he stacked niggaz to almanac Gunshots to corner four police informants Stood like he modeled the latest fashions, sidewalk sideshow performance He raised the pull of grace, a razor blew his face Force calm the ?sere? plus a pack of the ?dunga dun? laced with toothpaste Life ain't to be gambled son, you could get trampled by people that act more like animals than mammals high off enamel That's what his poppa said whose locked for droppin Akmed in the candy store robbery probably to get his veins fed He ain't listen, he became a braindead cocaine head Older Mexicans knew, they killed him eatin ?bagualitos? But hey little kids, don't follow these dopes <i>[Prospect]</i> What? Uh-huh, yea I can dig that They call me Prospect, I just came back from ? Had this track on pause, now I'm back on course It's lost on the Ave, tryin to take my life from the past Get this legal cash, ? without dad Kinda sad how he got dragged down to negativity Only if he had one love, trust for liberty this world would be a better place, get what it takes in a race to racism replace the snake in em Bad ones, want to spend lives and discriminate I'm tryin to keep this positive vibe, and from that I generate to the top, like Puffy won't stop I'm mature now, with one knot, from tryin to get locked And to the shorties on the block, tryin to twist 40 tops Get your act together, do some carpentry with a Black n Decker And stop speedin like a Kawasaki From my life, to your life, I'm touchin everybody Twinz watch me Everything we speak is the truth From Prospect to Munroe, here in a hot second The whole world run know, everything we speak is the truth Terror Squad |
|||||
|
|
3:49 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
*phone conversation*
[Fat Joe] Since day one, niggaz died at the Don cause I was anon, now Terror Squad is a thousand beyond Not only strong but we loyal and royally treated Quadripalegic any squad that wanna squab when I'm heated Not even God can believe it, the way we regulate and levitate, heavyweight niggaz like they was featherweight Every day I do the same thang It's the paid game, to amputate more body parts than gangrene [Big Punisher] Yo this a man's game, it's a shame how niggaz truly mock me But who can stop me, from breakin niggaz off like Fujiyaki? My crew's probably the only niggaz that really live the lyrics Niggaz really fear us, they must of heard we really killers We're Philly fillers and 40 guzzlers with millimeters and army cutters Willie niggaz that laundry dollars I'm Nostradamus predictin the future, my position is crucial with a known friction obsession addicition to shoot ya *BLAM* [Fat Joe] Hey yo I'm better off dead than givin the feds the satisfaction Subtractin my freedom have me missin in action [Big Punisher] A fraction of y'all, raw like Colt to the jaw The rest of y'all, fear war, and couldn't follow out the protocol [Fat Joe] Joe the God is like the angel of death, strangle your neck That's why Don Cartagena's the name your respect [Big Punisher] I bring the pain to your chest, that'll make you question your threshold Flex like you been forced, still "bless you" like a chest cold We destined to explode, that's why I stay on flip mode Your dick rode me long enough Dunn, now you can let go Chorus: Big Punisher Every man in this world has a destiny Can't no other rapper in this game get the best of me; unless you just def dumb and blind you know the pedigree Better get ready because I'm veddy and there ain't no gettin rid of me (repeat 2X) [Fat Joe] Uh, uh, uh, yo! Somebody hold me back, Joey Crack's about to load the gat and blow this track to the stars like the zodiac Hold me back this max n better, out for the ass n cheddar But fast cash don't last forever [Big Punisher] I asked the felons, if I don't stay wrapped in leathers and hats with feathers, I got all the ostriches actin jealous Track the trailers in chrome black Cateras Two hundred inch Mickey Thompson's, flown back from Paris [Prospect] Dat dats the illest, these body tracks make a rap killings Others is trying to stack billions out in crack buildings My destiny was to shine, ? to climb Especially in time, with the recipe in mind From the jump start, they ain't have to pump hard in this I was a part of this, and marvelous stats, it wasn't hard to miss And yo, I had to burn cats like arsonists and still continue Whose on my menu? A record deal they couldn't lend you I had to burn my glock and earn my spot The time flew by, had to turn my clock and start with a new resume, not really that bitch named Des'ree She ain't really my dream there's a better way -- what? Prospect'll have to collect dough Dialin 905 to L-A-X with somethin I was tryin to drive A life that's trife for what I wore in the fuckin ? A thug in pain, I swear to my little cousin's grave Chorus 1X [Big Punisher] Every man in this world has a destiny Can't no other rapper in this game get the best of me; unless you just def dumb and blind you know the pedigree Better get ready because I'm dead in a minute if you're ? *phone conversation* |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Big Punisher Prospect]
*phone conversation* [Fat Joe] Since day one niggaz died at the Don cause I was anon now Terror Squad is a thousand beyond Not only strong but we loyal and royally treated Quadripalegic any squad that want to squab when I'm heated Not even God can believe it the way we regulate and levitate heavyweight niggaz like they was featherweight Every day I do the same thang It's the paid game, to amputate more body parts than gangrene [Big Punisher] Yo this a man's game, it's a shame how niggaz truly mock me But who can stop me, from breakin niggaz off like Fujiyaki? My crew's probably the only niggaz that really live the lyrics Niggaz really fear us, they must of heard we really killers We're Philly fillers and 40 guzzlers with millimeters and army cutters Willie niggaz that laundry dollars I'm Nostradamus predictin the future, my position is crucial with a known friction obsession addicition to shoot ya *BLAM* [Fat Joe] Hey yo I'm better off dead than givin the feds the satisfaction Subtractin my freedom have me missin in action [Big Punisher] A fraction of y'all, raw like Colt to the jaw The rest of y'all, fear war, and couldn't follow out the protocol [Fat Joe] Joe the God is like the angel of death, strangle your neck That's why Don Cartagena's the name your respect [Big Punisher] I bring the pain to your chest, that'll make you question your threshold Flex like you been forced, still "bless you" like a chest cold We destined to explode, that's why I stay on flip mode Your dick rode me long enough Dunn, now you can let go Chorus: Big Punisher Every man in this world has a destiny Can't no other rapper in this game get the best of me; unless you just def dumb and blind you know the pedigree Better get ready because I'm veddy and there ain't no gettin rid of me (repeat 2X) [Fat Joe] Uh, uh, uh, yo! Somebody hold me back, Joey Crack's about to load the gat and blow this track to the stars like the zodiac Hold me back this max n better, out for the ass n cheddar But fast cash don't last forever [Big Punisher] I asked the felons, if I don't stay wrapped in leathers and hats with feathers, I got all the ostriches actin jealous Track the trailers in chrome black Cateras Two hundred inch Mickey Thompson's, flown back from Paris [Prospect] Dat dats the illest, these body tracks make a rap killings Others is trying to stack billions out in crack buildings My destiny was to shine, ? to climb Especially in time, with the recipe in mind From the jump start, they ain't have to pump hard in this I was a part of this, and marvelous stats, it wasn't hard to miss And yo, I had to burn cats like arsonists and still continue Whose on my menu? A record deal they couldn't lend you I had to burn my glock and earn my spot The time flew by, had to turn my clock and start with a new resume, not really that bitch named Des'ree She ain't really my dream there's a better way -- what? Prospect'll have to collect dough Dialin 905 to L-A-X with somethin I was tryin to drive A life that's trife for what I wore in the fuckin ? A thug in pain, I swear to my little cousin's grave Chorus 1X [Big Punisher] Every man in this world has a destiny Can't no other rapper in this game get the best of me; unless you just def dumb and blind you know the pedigree Better get ready because I'm dead in a minute if you're ? *phone conversation* |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Charli Baltimore]
(Kid Capri) Yes indeed What the deal This is the world famous Kid Capri up here wit my man Joey Crack Joey Crack got this new joint coming out Yo Joey tell 'em what the name of this joint is (Fat Joe) This is for the hoes and bitches (Kid Capri) A yo what about all the young ladies the positive young ladies (Fat Joe) Like I said this is dedicated to the hoes and bitches (Kid Capri) Speak on it man Verse 1-Fat Joe This ain't for the intelligent civilized divas for all the hoes and bitches who swallow nut by the leiters Two months pregnant madd dick pokin' the fetus But she don't give a damn still suckin' dick for sneakers You know the type, Damn dirty is right she even did it wit dice And made a dildo of ice A-yo it's like the hiest move ya phat ass to gain And if you love me baby girl give my friends some entertainment (Yo that's foul Joe) Hey yo I treat 'em how they act yo Behave like a hooker and played like a madd hoe Rumor has it that you take it in the asshole And wrap ya lips around my dick like a lasso I love the way you hold that Joe Crack bozak While niggas bone that My stomach's where ya nose at Just another hoe in the midst That does more than kiss when we start pourin' the 'cris (Chorus) All you bitches be fuckin' for money Playin' niggas but they can't get shit from me You ain't smokin' my lye Pushin' my ride and if you ain't fuckin' just walk on by All you bitches just walk on by Verse 2-Fat Joe I once knew a girl by the name of Savannah met her backstage at a show in Atlanta seemed like a nice girl, class and well-mannered When I took her to the hotel the bitch went bananas Did my eyes decieve me Was she suckin' three pee-pee's Caught it all on tape so I could watch it late on T.V. Couldn't wait to beep me Started in the car shorty caught the quick train from the Trinity stars Big Joe'll railroad Any frail hoe Have a bitch scream and yell throwin' elbows Now who the hell knows Why these girls fuck for cell phones Turnin' tricks for material shit Now bust it, You want to hit it gotta pay top dollar These chics is hott rodders Wit grips like Rottwilers But why bother Picture me payin' a fee I'll just play like Akinyle and fuck these hoes for free (Chorus) Verse 3-Charli Baltimore Picture be |
|||||
|
|
3:59 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Don Cartagena (1998)
[Featuring Charli Baltimore]
(Kid Capri) Yes indeed What the deal This is the world famous Kid Capri up here wit my man Joey Crack Joey Crack got this new joint coming out Yo Joey tell 'em what the name of this joint is (Fat Joe) This is for the hoes and bitches (Kid Capri) A yo what about all the young ladies the positive young ladies (Fat Joe) Like I said this is dedicated to the hoes and bitches (Kid Capri) Speak on it man Verse 1-Fat Joe This ain't for the intelligent civilized divas for all the hoes and bitches who swallow nut by the leiters Two months pregnant madd dick pokin' the fetus But she don't give a damn still suckin' dick for sneakers You know the type, Damn dirty is right she even did it wit dice And made a dildo of ice A-yo it's like the hiest move ya phat ass to gain And if you love me baby girl give my friends some entertainment (Yo that's foul Joe) Hey yo I treat 'em how they act yo Behave like a hooker and played like a madd hoe Rumor has it that you take it in the asshole And wrap ya lips around my dick like a lasso I love the way you hold that Joe Crack bozak While niggas bone that My stomach's where ya nose at Just another hoe in the midst That does more than kiss when we start pourin' the 'cris (Chorus) All you bitches be fuckin' for money Playin' niggas but they can't get shit from me You ain't smokin' my lye Pushin' my ride and if you ain't fuckin' just walk on by All you bitches just walk on by Verse 2-Fat Joe I once knew a girl by the name of Savannah met her backstage at a show in Atlanta seemed like a nice girl, class and well-mannered When I took her to the hotel the bitch went bananas Did my eyes decieve me Was she suckin' three pee-pee's Caught it all on tape so I could watch it late on T.V. Couldn't wait to beep me Started in the car shorty caught the quick train from the Trinity stars Big Joe'll railroad Any frail hoe Have a bitch scream and yell throwin' elbows Now who the hell knows Why these girls fuck for cell phones Turnin' tricks for material shit Now bust it, You want to hit it gotta pay top dollar These chics is hott rodders Wit grips like Rottwilers But why bother Picture me payin' a fee I'll just play like Akinyle and fuck these hoes for free (Chorus) Verse 3-Charli Baltimore Picture be |
|||||
 |
|
2:47 |
|
||
|
from Big L - The Big Picture [Explicit Version] (2000)
Artist: D.I.T.C. f/ Big L, Fat Joe
Album: D.I.T.C. Song: Da Enemy [Big L] I drive up and down Harlem blocks, iced out watch Knots in my socks, cops think I'm selling rocks Pulling me over too see if I'm drunk but I'm sober they wouldn't fuck with me if I drove a Nova Listen Columbo you're mad because your money come slow And what you make in a year I make in one show Now you wanna frisk me and search my ride Call me all kinda names try to hurt my pride You're just mad cause I'm a young cat, pockets dumb fat Talkin bout where the gun at, I been there and done that I'm through with that illegal life, I'm stayin legit I love to see cars come cruisin bye and playin my shit I walk around with six thou' without a pist-al, my whole click's wild I'm rich pal, no more sticks I'm makin hits now I drink Cristal, I'm through breakin laws I don't sell coke anymore, I do tours So get that flashlight out of my face To bring me down them Jakes'll do whatever it takes Word up them federals got my phone and my house tapped Praying that I fall for the mouse trap, I doubt that Chorus: Big L Why do I end up in so much shit I done came way too far to be callin it quits Jake wanna lock me up even though I'm legit They can't stand to see a young brother pockets get thick [Fat Joe] Aiyyo enough's enough, federals try to set me up Put me in cuffs and crush what I lust into dust Plus, they want a nigga sewed, but they know Big Joey Crack ain't never rat a cat that he know Fo' sho', death before dishonor; I left the streets alone since Tone deceased it almost killed his mama So I'ma keep doin what I'm doin Pursuin my dream til there enough cream to start my own union And show these kids how legit it is Shit is real I used to steal but now I own several businesses So where's your witness that you claim to have, sayin that I'm takin half Extortin New York and not payin tax I'm layin back, playin the role, playin the low But it's the same ol Joe so don't get K.O.d Hey yo I'm gonna fry for what I never did or catch a heavy bid, why don't they just let a nigga live? Chorus 2X 'What would you do.. if the vicious enemy suddenly started comin at you.. armed to the teeth, and ready to kill you?' |
|||||
|
|
5:28 |
|
||
|
from Big L - The Big Picture [Explicit Version] (2000)
(O.C.) Phenomenon O.C.
(Big L) Big L, one-three-nine baby (O.C.) Diggin' In The Crates (Joe) Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppin (ad libbed "uh" and "yeah" for 20 seconds) (O.C.) Yo, yo, yo I'm from a place where them niggaz don't, talk no shit where them wigs get split, where the guns forever click where the track stars come to warm up for a race Blue and whites ride by and niggaz yell, "Fuck them Jakes!" So much respect, I can lay dough on the floor walk away and come back without cats runnin off I'm a model hoe's wet dream, in her sleep Performin X-rated fuck scenes, me goin deep O.C. the Starchild, let your cameras record I'm like a man bein honored at the Grammy awards I pitch lines like fastballs Mush-out, rap my ass off Knuckle gaze crumblin your glass jaw Supreme figure, drink liquor, what team thicker? "The Big Picture" be the motherfuckin theme nigga Flamboyant forever, this is how it goes Pray we don't clap your way when the gats explode Chorus: Remi Martin and O.C. (repeat 2X) (Remi) Where Brooklyn at? (O.C.) Yo B-K don't play (Remi) Harlem World (O.C.) Where niggaz get the money all day (Remi) Boogie Down Bronx, specialize in gunplay (both) Triboro, so thorough, always (Big L) Where I'm from, dudes get sliced, cause crews is trife And you might lose your life for your jewels and ice I'ma slide to the telly and abuse your wife If I got one rubber, I'ma use it twice I give young fools advice about the rules of heist When I rock 'gators, hoes be like, "Them shoes is nice" Dimes I'm willin to hit, I stay drillin a chick They all know I ain't shit, but they still on my dick And I never walk the streets without the vest and the chrome cause all my jewels be Rocky like Sylvester Stallone I blast the tech at your dome to leave you restin alone Go home and puff a fat bag of sess 'til I'm gone You got this nigga frontin like he the, main event when his album ain't even last long, it came and went I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him Niggaz don't want it with L, they like, "Anybody but him!" Chorus (Fat Joe) Hoodied down with the mac - Boogie Down where it's at Fuck around hear the sound of the gats Wanna clown we react.. fuck that Do you know what you do when you fool with Joey Crack? I'm - coke on the streets, I'm - open for beef I'm - hopin you reach so we can go with the heat I'm - like a nigga that you just can't kill Niggaz spittin that hot shit, but just ain't real Uhh - it's like you muh'fuckers frontin for me Nuttin to see, when I'm the one you wantin to be Lovin the stee', come through plush in the V Got niggaz mad cause they pain while we fuckin for free Make Trizz a household, live what I told I only speak that true shit that I know (yeah yeah) Besides y'all don't want it with us A hundred or plus, killers that be livin to bust What the fuck? Chorus (Remi Martin) Yo Remi so crazy, rhymes be blazin Styles just switch like hips on gay men Trips to the Cayman, rich and famous Rhymes so hot my spit be flamin Benz be rimmed up, doo be pinned up Bitch talk slick whole crew get hemmed up My shit drastic, all type of tactics Rip shit flip shit spit shit backwards Screw you, don't let the pretty face fool you I kick shit like kung-fu and I, jam like guns do You got one? I want two like water, I run through Pyscho - make you wanna change your whole mic flow Floss it, givin bitches lyrical abortions Stay cautioned - my first shit was just a lil portion I come back with more shit, playback some raw shit You can't rock, so I'ma take your spot make you forfeit Chorus |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Big Pun - Capital Punishment (Explicit Version) (2000) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Big Pun - Capital Punishment (Explicit Version) (2000) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
| from Big Pun - Capital Punishment (Explicit Version) (2000) | |||||
 |
|
9:15 |
|
||
|
from Jennifer Lopez - Feelin So Good [single] (2000)
when I opened up my eyes today
felt the sun shining on my face it became so clear to me that everything is goin my way I feel like there's no l limit to what I can see got rid of fears that were holding me my endless possibilities has the whole world opened for me that's why I'm feeling...I'm feeling so good I knew I would~ been taking care of myself like I should~ cause not one thing~ can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around... now that day is turning in tonight and everything is still going right there's no way you can stop me this time or break this spirit of mine (oh no) like the stars above I'm gonna shine anything I want will be mine tonight I'm gonna have a good time call a few friends of mine cause I'm loving life and tonight's for feeling...I'm feeling so good~ I knew I would~ been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around... I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around... I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around...I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around...I'm feeling so party on tonight night everything is feeling right dj party on tonight everything is feeling right I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around...I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around...I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around...I'm feeling so good I knew I would been taking care of myself like I should cause not one thing can bring me down nothing in this world gonna turn me around... |
|||||
 |
|
3:55 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Yeah.. Definition of a Don
It's like I gotta keep remindin you and remindin you Who's that nigga.. You heard the kid Flowers on the casket of all those who oppose the squadus It's the motherfuckin Don Cartagena ya heard What?! *They wanna know why ya name is Joey Crack You a hustler, how they think you got the stacks? (Uh) You stuck being in jacks on the blocks witcha paps (Yeah) And the Squad to hard niggaz gotta fall back (Tell 'em) Damn papi, you're shit is icey now (Uh-huh) In the Bronx witcha Benz rims pokin out (Ten mil) You got the niggaz in the pen straight loc'in out But when the don is on nigga close ya mouth Yeah, yo You wouldn't understand my story of life I live Most niggaz that really know me got life as bids The trife as kids, this ain't no Scarface shit These niggaz really will kill you, your wife, and kids I walked through many blocks niggaz couldn't stand on Had shit locked before I had a glock to even put my hands on Before I had the dough to put my fams on Before I had rocks sealed in pink tops, tryna get a gram off A wild adolescent, raised by the street Mesmorized by the dealers and the places they eat And when they blazed the heat, I was the shorty to take the handoff Run upstairs, tryna sneak the gat past grandmoms This is how it should be done... my life... Is identical to none, son tryed to duplicate but I knew he was fake Cuz everytime I walked by he turned blue in the face I'm like heavy on the leg when I pop All my change is like heavy on the weight when I cop It's just the way it's done Niggaz tell me they respect the way I blaze them guns On hold it down for the Bronx in the name of Pun *Repeat Yeah uh, my name ring bells like a P.O. Put the pressure on a nigga like I'm right atcha do' With the muzzle out, nigga can't shoke with my dough I'm at his mothers house Beat up his pops, put the pistol in his brother's mouth Wave bricks, whips... jerked a few coke and next play the strip with chrome knowin that they won't forget And on the weekends we shut down clubs You know them crazy Peurto Ricans always fuckin it up! If I can't afford it, I'ma extort it If I can't cut it, I'ma bake it Strip you niggaz butt-naked, I'm a thoroughbred Carry guns and pump heroin Never went O.T. I'm too light for Maryland I'd rather play the streets of New York Where the fiends are guarunteed to keep the meat on my fork I'm just a hustler - feds put the tap on our phones in hopes of cuffin us Then wonder why we livin life so illustrious *Repeat (x2) |
|||||
|
|
5:18 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Ch-ch-ch-ch... Yeah
(Terror Squad.. First Family..) AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (Yeah, hahahah!) You see them diamonds gliserin off that three-quarterla (Hahaha) Dat dem dere polyesther (Uh, nigga!) Hahaha, ya heard me? (What the fuck, what the fuck, huh?!) (Terror Squad... First Family...) OH!, OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) Yeah, yeah uh Yo it's that motherfuckin Bronx nigga Don shit Run up in yo' mom's crib Ship-stacked biddomb shit - gun up in the palm shit Nobody moves, nobody get whacked with the contrict Yo' shot at they concert, it's locked on the concrete I'm Stone Cold, I mean I slap... then stomp... Then what's to stop my .40 glock from rumblin your calm streets? I'm troubled when I on deep, loco enough for dolo Blow holes in ya carseat and roll over ya Rover Fuck this role model shit I'm finna blow out ya wig Bitch! Throw bottles to kid and get 'em thrown at ya crib It's the return of the worst shit that ever happened Reborn like what's crackin, we formed with raw plastic Blastin off ya doors with an awful passion Forcin the walls to crash in You see them kids, I'll make 'em all bastards Joey Crack - keep it gully Known to clap - keep a fully Automatic mack whodie on my lap - doin thirty Drivin through the Heights tryna find these cats that did me dirty Shot me on the Ave., now I gotta blast until them pearlies We the realest niggaz ever touch the mic (BLAH!) And we love to fight (BLAH!) You heard my niggaz (ANTE UP!) give up the fuckin knife! *We gonna, BREAK! - (BREAK!) MASH! - (MASH!) BRAWL! - (BRAWL! CLASH! - (CLASH!) Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass!! GET YO' ASS UP NIGGA! SHOW ME WHERE YOU AT! GET YO' ASS UP NIGGA! OPEN UP HIS BACK! *Repeat Yo who that husky-ass nigga with the flow so dumb Comin up outta Brooklyn lookin like Mighty Joe Young (FACE DOWN!) Know we real - got this motherfucker crackin and buzzin with my Latin cousin Joey Grills (WE INTERNATIONAL!) 151 proof Letcha cold run loose, I give 'em a sunroof For cotton-ass pretty boy talkin bout drama With that nasty-ass Coogi suit, lookin like pajamas (SOMEBODY GON' GET HURT TODAY!) So be it We the First (First!) Fam (Family!) - You see it! Put some trouble in ya voice homeboy, fore ya get whacked in CALM (CALM!) DOWN (DOWN!) GET - BACK! For you niggaz that wanna trap me I make families unhappy I'm tied into the same shit as Boy George and Papi (E'RYBODY KNOW!) Everybody wanna clap me Tonight I'm with my Spanish homie Joey so get at me with the ghetto issued .45, semi-automatic I (SPIT) with intentions (TO RIP) Put-put pieces out yo' cabbage bitch Trained on the Hill, aim at niggaz faces Push his hat back seven paces - leave him standin still Cobra-ass nigga (Huh?!) You beg me to kill (Yeah!) When I cock glocks and pop, you beg me to chill (Chill!) (Y'ALL REMEMBER BILL!) Y'all remember the motherfuckin deal You will get yo' ass zipped up, how this feel nigga?!! *Repeat (x2) Oh motherfucker uh-uh, y'all ain't seen nuttin yet Got a call from the Bronx Best, bitch and I was right there Duck tape, grip ply, havogee, turpentine Two nickel nine, MacDonald, cup of richie wine Wish a motherfucker would, look and he shall find TEN MILLION WAYS TO DIE! I'm the thickest of the fire Ain't to many niggaz round with the rumble With the rawest in the jungle, blicky BLOAW BLOAW!! Bitch I break 'em down (DOWN) with Terror Squad now Ya pretty bad, clumsy mouth, sit down - get up get out Hottest thang they got in the south (Petey Pablo!) If ya don't know now ya know - HOLLA AT 'EM JOE! Fight club! - Fight club! Fight club! - Fight club! Fight club! - Fight club! HOLLA AT 'EM JOE! *Repeat (x2) Yeah, huh, yeah, huh?! (Hahaha) First Family, Terror Squad.... |
|||||
|
|
4:03 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
[Fat Joe]
Whoa, whoa, whoa All you frontin-ass niggaz Callin all frontin-ass bitches, hahahaha! Yo, get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?) Get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?) Yo, yo, yo, yo Why you over there lookin at me, while my girl standin there These bitches actin like they never seen a millionaire Feel my pockets, wanna really get your hands in there Now what it be like? You confused man, that shit don't even seem right How you cats on your album only three mics Like 'Pac shit is funny to me All you niggaz livin bummy wasn't fuckin with me Now nigga get it on, soon you be dead and gone Shorty got a bubble all she need the silicone Love my A-T-L bitches, pay my bail bitches Type to let you fuck but never tell bitches Down-ass hoes that'll grind that dough Catch me with another chick and beat 'em down to a pulp It's the F-A-T, to the, J-O-E Drink Cris' with the Feds when they come for me No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G Number one with a slug, what you expect from me, huh Are you serious? [Chorus: Fat Joe] If you see a nigga frontin fake shit on his wrist Walk around all night, same bottle of Cris' Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what If you see a bitch frontin in her best friend's clothes New sass weave and fucked up toes Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what [Armageddon] Now all my ladies put your hands up Nah mami, if you fuck for dough then you's a hoe And no I'm not the one that don't drop the notes I only ice the beef and rock the coat Think you gettin somethin from me your thoughts are broke Might get a little wheeze and a salty throat, So get the hell on with that, don't you weave and feel it Get the hell on with that, I'm aight I'm chillin Chicken neck-ass bitch tryna palm the dough Should've charged me at the door, I woulda let you know Get the same jewel mouth full of heavy Mo' Coulda made you a thug from the guy with the mo' But yo, I ain't never met a chick that was innocent They all fuck some, eat some, never kiss I know a lot that got skeed on and that was it See me in the video like, 'Bitch I sucked his dick' [Chorus: Fat Joe] You let him in at one time cause you thought he was fly Now you see him at the clubs, he don't pay you no mind Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Yo, every time you smoke, dude puff your 'dro But when it's time to go cop, he ain't got no dough Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what [Ludacris] Ludacris be the number one street - clown wishin 'em luck Cause I'm bout to make 'em break a leg thinkin I'm givin a FUCK And you catch a beat - down, bottles is breakin, craniums crack Chairs thrown when the heat is attacked and you hear the street - sound, hitters and runners Killers and gunners, winter to summer the niggaz that want us are headed East - bound, trouble in West other than South Cover your chest, they cover your mouth I'm goin deep - down Dirty indeed, birdies in need Thirty degrees and you heard it from me but I'm bout to reach - 'round grabbin my gun They scatter and run but I'm handlin and havin some fun They gotta keep - rounds up under the bed, up under the spread If it ain't then it ain't, no wonder you dead So go to sleep - now, throats is splitted and folks that get it they gotta get the hell on widdit, BIATCH [Chorus: Fat Joe] Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim thug like they're the type But when it's time to go to war they runnin for dear life Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Got this clown runnin around like he's my fam We did time in what joint? I don't know you man Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what [Fat Joe] Yeah, haha, T.S., Terror Get the hell on with that, get the hell on with that Yeah, Charlie Rock L.D., uhh Ton' Montana rest in peace, 2001 Get the hell on with that, get the hell on with that Yeah |
|||||
|
|
3:43 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Uh!Bringin It Back To The BX!
Wit my nigga Fat Joe, long side my nigga Prospect Holdin the BX down Bronx Burrough....Terror Sqaud [Verse 1-Fat Joe] Yo, everybody talkin gats, really don't pack em 98% of these rapper's is all actor's Stay frontin, like you wild and'll spray somethin Come to find out, you ain't never slanged nothin Think it's the game, gon lose the sport I seen dude's get bruised through fort Then choose the court, a new's report They just pursed the court If you even think of bustin, they ass'll sooth your thoughts A damn shame, I'm from the streets where it's fair game Nigga's will ift you off your feet wit the Can-yan Three in the chest and one in the part For disrespect you, get left right in front of ya moms Joe is the Don, you clean, then show me your arm's For these track's, I'ma fiend like a soldier in 'Nam Only the Bronx will blow your ass outta ya Lugz Fuck love, here we believe in nothin but slugs [Chrous-Prospect&Fat Joe] [Prospect] Always you see him in the club frontin wit the ice grill.... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Actin like he got a money, cause he never hold steel..... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Always see him wit bodyguards around like he kill [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] So if the feds after indictment's, we know he gon squeal.... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Verse 2-Prospect] Yo, I squeeze of gats and spit facts when I breath on tracks Got that hot shit, that make you ease on back I'll make you leave the game like Ma$e, and get ya name erased Walk threw from place to place, and change the chase I'm givin him terror, for the new millenium era Automatic Semi's wit the fully clip and the leather Poppin champagne like we celebrating whatever Switch to the chin, shoot top, hair and a feather Versatile, walking threw the aisle, hurtin the crowd Even got the god in the cloud, observing this style He love the way I do this, leavin nigga's clueless It's Prospect, it's off wit ya head, you should've knew this My twin????, cock and squeeze, we stoppin G's You better follow up, these nigga's can't rock wit these Straight up, I speak life threw the mic though Sprayin the town, and layin it down like whoa! [Chrous-Prospect,Fat Joe&Remi Martin] [Prospect] Always see him in the club, frontin wit the ice grill.... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Actin like he got a honey, cause he never hold steel... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Always see him wit bodyguards around like he kill [Fat Joe] He's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] So if the feds after indictment, you know he gon sqeaul.... [Remi Martin] Be like, she's alright, but she's not real [Verse 3-Fat Joe] Yo, ayo I'm lookin for the perfect mami to ride wit me Only wear she like to rock is 560 Swear to her mom's if it's on, she'll die wit me Puff blunts, like to get high just like Whitney Thug type, "Set It Off", like Jada And this chick go both ways, don't hate her Back in the block, they use to try to play her Till the Don out her to the qualities much greater Net Worth, put the tool in the skirt Which you fools know about gettin head in reverse About, clockin grips, and coppin whips You muthafucker's stay frontin, stop poppin shit Let's not forget, who be gettin robbed wit the choker Man, I'm still rockin my same chains from "Flow Joe" And you know Joe stay wit tha mack You hatin the fact, you can't do nathan to crack YA HEARD!!! [Chorus Till Fade] *Intro to Prodigy's "Keep It Thoro"* "Oh y'all nigga's killa's now?" |
|||||
|
|
0:23 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Uh! Bringin It Back To The BX! Wit my nigga Fat Joe, long side my nigga Prospect Holdin the BX down Bronx Burrough....Terror Sqaud [Verse 1-Fat Joe] Yo, everybody talkin gats, really don't pack em 98% of these rapper's is all actor's Stay frontin, like you wild and'll spray somethin Come to find out, you ain't never slanged nothin Think it's the game, gon lose the sport I seen dude's get bruised through fort Then choose the court, a new's report They just pursed the court If you even think of bustin, they ass'll sooth your thoughts A damn shame, I'm from the streets where it's fair game Nigga's will ift you off your feet wit the Can-yan Three in the chest and one in the part For disrespect you, get left right in front of ya moms Joe is the Don, you clean, then show me your arm's For these track's, I'ma fiend like a soldier in 'Nam Only the Bronx will blow your ass outta ya Lugz Fuck love, here we believe in nothin but slugs [Chrous-Prospect&Fat Joe] [Prospect] Always you see him in the club frontin wit the ice grill.... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Actin like he got a money, cause he never hold steel..... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Always see him wit bodyguards around like he kill [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] So if the feds after indictment's, we know he gon squeal.... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Verse 2-Prospect] Yo, I squeeze of gats and spit facts when I breath on tracks Got that hot shit, that make you ease on back I'll make you leave the game like Ma$e, and get ya name erased Walk threw from place to place, and change the chase I'm givin him terror, for the new millenium era Automatic Semi's wit the fully clip and the leather Poppin champagne like we celebrating whatever Switch to the chin, shoot top, hair and a feather Versatile, walking threw the aisle, hurtin the crowd Even got the god in the cloud, observing this style He love the way I do this, leavin nigga's clueless It's Prospect, it's off wit ya head, you should've knew this My twin??, cock and squeeze, we stoppin G's You better follow up, these nigga's can't rock wit these Straight up, I speak life threw the mic though Sprayin the town, and layin it down like whoa! [Chrous-Prospect,Fat Joe&Remi Martin] [Prospect] Always see him in the club, frontin wit the ice grill.... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Actin like he got a honey, cause he never hold steel... [Fat Joe] Be like, he's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] Always see him wit bodyguards around like he kill [Fat Joe] He's alright, but he's not real [Prospect] So if the feds after indictment, you know he gon sqeaul.... [Remi Martin] Be like, she's alright, but she's not real [Verse 3-Fat Joe] Yo, ayo I'm lookin for the perfect mami to ride wit me Only wear she like to rock is 560 Swear to her mom's if it's on, she'll die wit me Puff blunts, like to get high just like Whitney Thug type, "Set It Off", like Jada And this chick go both ways, don't hate her Back in the block, they use to try to play her Till the Don out her to the qualities much greater Net Worth, put the tool in the skirt Which you fools know about gettin head in reverse About, clockin grips, and coppin whips You muthafucker's stay frontin, stop poppin shit Let's not forget, who be gettin robbed wit the choker Man, I'm still rockin my same chains from "Flow Joe" And you know Joe stay wit tha mack You hatin the fact, you can't do nathan to crack YA HEARD!!! [Chorus Till Fade] [Intro to Prodigy's "Keep It Thoro"] "Oh y'all nigga's killa's now |
|||||
|
|
0:27 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Yes indeed
And I say New York City I play a witness That there will never be a greater MC Greater lyricist to touch the mic Then the late great Christopher Lee [Incomprehensible] Oh you're my enormous Big Pun Yeah, rest in peace |
|||||
|
|
3:21 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Yeah, right about now
I'm about to slow it up For that very special lady I see you right there But we about to smooth it out for you Right now Never, Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey! *It's okay, it's okay It's okay, hey, we was home anyway It's alright, it's alright High, High, we was all more night NIGGAS! Tryin to come in my I'm talkin 'bout NIGGAS! Tryin to come in my Who? Who? NIGGAS! Tryin to come in my home Take my chrome, I say yo "It's On" If my house, I-I been here(speakin spanish too) Es me casa y yo viva aqui Yeah, check me out now The other day I was chillin In the crib with two women We just finished swimmin Now I'm ready to slid up in 'em They the horny type, bout to get it on With the only dykes, now I hear the alarm I'm like, "Holy Christ!" Is somebody tryin to come up in my crib? I'm like "Who the fuck is this?" like Notorious Big, he wore a black suit With a black mask that match I'm bout to blast his mask off Push his cabbage back Make spaghetti out his brain Cuz I'm steady with the aim Niggas comin sideways, gettin petty wit da game Musta heard about the half in the safe The stash in the base, iced out medals in the case Niggas comin wit da chrome Tryin to sneak up in my home, rumors out I spent a Mil' on the pump piece alone I got the heat in my palm Nobody's seein it though Step your feet on my lawn I'm puttin 3 to ya dome! *Repeat Yeah, verse 2, yo Now I got these bitches Screamin fo' they life Peein on they nice Gotta funny feelin that They teamin on the heist Scheemin on the ice Wont get you nothin but killed Front if you will, get chopped up Stuffed in the quill Back to the lab, got these niggas After my math, these hoes try to play it off But they captain is back They must have teamed up With some niggas thinkin they sweet Like I just rapped and I got a ho waitin in the street I'm playin for keeps, I see 'em Creepin on the moniters Got my temperature risin faster than thermometers I burn banana clips, make all My victories unanimous I'm accurate, once I catch a peak Hey man, yo ass is hit! Now I see 'em creepin through the front door I think not! We exchange shots Like cops into getting blocked{*gunshot*} He busts, I bust back{*gunshot*} He caught one in the chest The other two got hit up In the stomache and neck{*gunshots*} I'm under the desk, freeloading Puttin slugs in the rest Wonderin what possessed these niggas To come in my rest!{*gunshots*} {*breathing hard*} You motherfuckers want a war with me? Dont you know I fuckin kill niggas? Here I come!{*gunshots*} Oh, shit! Motherfuckers is dead already! Yo, where them bitches go? |
|||||
|
|
2:27 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Put the fuckin' mic on
Mic is on Joe Crack the Don uh Yeah, Yeah, Y'All Irv Gotti What's love? Ashanti, Terror, Terror Squad It should be about us Be about trust *What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) {Yeah, Yeah, Y'All} What's love? It's about us {It's about us} It's about trust babe {Be about trust} What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) {Yeah, Yeah, Uh} What's love? It should be about us {It should be about us} It should be about trust babe {Be about trust} What's love? Yeah, yeah, uh, uh, woo, yeah, slow down baby Let you know from the gate I don't go down lady I wanna chick with thick hips That licks her lips She can be the office type or like to strip Girl you get me aroused how you look in my eye But you talk to much man your ruinin' my high Don't wanna lose the feelin' Cause the roof is chillin' It's on fire & you lookin' Good for the gettin' I'm rida Other in a hoodie or a linner I'ma provider You should see the jewelery on my women & I'm livin' it up The squad stay feelin' the truck With Chicks that's willin' to triz with us uh You say you gotta man & your in love But what's love Gotta do with a little menage After the party Just me & you Could just slide for a few & she could come too That's love! *Repeat Yeah, uh, yeah, yo, mommy, I know you got issues You gotta man But you need to understand That you got something with you Ass is fat, frame is little Tattoo in your chest with his name in the middle Uh, I'm not a hater I just crush a lot & the way you shake your booty I don't want you to stop You Need to come a little closer (You need to come a little closer) & let me put you under my arm like a Don is supposed ta (Like a Don is supposed ta) Please believe You leave with me We'd be freakin' all night like we was on E You need to trust the god & jump in the car For a little hard 8 at the Taj Mahal What's love? *Repeat Yeah, uh, yo, I stroll in the club with my hat down Michael Jack style Hot 7 who the mack now? Not my fault cause they love the kid Ma be the chain or the whip I don't know what it is We just party & bullshit Come on mommy put your body in motion You gotta nigga open You came here with the heart to cheat So you need to sing the song with me All my ladies come on When I look in your eyes there's no stopin' me I want the Don Joey Crack on top of me (Uh-huh) Don't want your stacks (Yeah) Just break my back (Uh) Gonna cut you no sack (Whoo) Cause I'm on it like that (Uh, Come On) Come on (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) & put it (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) on me (Put it on ya Girl) on me (I'm put it on ya Girl) *Repeat (x2) |
|||||
|
|
4:07 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
An' bamba clad boy feel dem bobbin try an' test now!
Is that? Cut off dem blood-clot nigga don't give a fuck! Watta feel like? Don't know how to kill? Uh-uh.. Saya, Saya!! What is it Khalid, what is it? The original King of New York has returned The King of New York, the Don Cartagena Joe Crack, Terror Squad leader! (Whoo.. whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo!!) The fuck?! What?! Yeah, mind on my money; money on my mind Nigga mind on my money; money on my mind Aiyyo, who can test I, the true King of N.Y. Well ever since Big Boy died from Bed-Stuy I've been, controllin the street, holdin the heat Shit I only want what's stolen from me (Nah you ain't fuckin wit us) Rollin with me, could only get you fast cars and Fuck mad bitches and, dine amongst the stars, but we gettin mad chave in the life we live MTV's comin over just to feel my "Crib" Man fuck them other kids! That's how I feel I thought I said it all in "He's Not Real" But you beggin me to kill, must want ya brain spilled I tryna keep cool but it's hard to tame still Shit's still real man you never shoulda bought it Must feel ill to see your boss get extorted Specialize in audits and makin hot tapes This rap shit don't cut it then it's back to flippin weight Man I'm feelin great (Whoo!) Pushin mad units Hustlin is the key to success but could you do it I been layin it down, the spray and the town It's about time the rightful owner claimed his crown *Who the fuck you know be fuckin with this?! As Big Pun's knowin you'll be givin a shit! Not a damn soul! I let you know from the get go! Wanna war with the Squad, walk through the threshold! Who the fuck you know be fuckin with this?! As Big Pun's knowin you'll be givin a shit! Not any squad or clique can squab with this! Shit I'm O.G. nigga y'all know how this is! Hey yo, it's all over, I want a piece of the pie Nigga hand it over or all your seeds gon' die And it don't take much for me to kidnap a DJ Or clap at ya truck while you ridin through the freeway Shit is mad ea-say to wet you up Betta, watch yo' bitch and who's dick she sucked She gon', set you up, I been to the crib I don't know why you surprised bitches love the kid I'm more realer than the way you act A born killer quick to wave the mack And all you niggaz gotta face the fact I pop shit cuz you can't stop me More rich cuz they can't rob me I plant clips at ya fam's lobby Joe the Don and you been warned But niggaz never wanna listen till they kin's gone Now you wanna get it on cuz ya dollars stack Now how you plan to holla back with a hollow back? Joey Crack and I be the truth Don't believe that's the streets till proof Ask the deez how my Eagle blew Betchu sayin, "Damn, what we did to duke?!" Better gather them young'ns and hope you make it through * Repeat (x2) The Don is the King of New York.. The Don is the King of New York... |
|||||
|
|
4:18 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
Uh-oh, uh-oh..
Let's get it over with. Yo sound boy turn the levels up Let's get it over with, UH! Terror Squad up in this motherfucker Where my real niggaz at? My Bronx niggaz, my (?) niggaz I see you Lil' Hat! Uh, Ahaha! It's time to take it to these niggaz right here Yeah.. yo.. yo.. Who wanna spaz out? Crunchtime, blow ya abs out Leave you in the fetal position, witcha ass out Ready to mash out any crew actin like they the true facts of life, frontin through the camera lights Despite, we hold it down regardless I got Def Jam suckin me like, "I wish you was my artist" For starters, who's the largest cat? Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap Now how hard is that? Everything we spit be hot Whether it's live on Flex or in front of the chicken spot Grimed out, we really live whatchu rhyme 'bout See me posted up in the Tunnel, with my shines out Ice cold like Alaska when I pass ya Got girls shakin, losin they breath, as if they catchin asthma Headed to the bar to pop some bottles Now we in the car headed home to rock some models All I hear in the background is Gucci and Prada But I'm tryna gas these bitches to screw me for nada We the best that done it, confess you fronted Anybody wanna test how much straps, you want it? *Aiyyo the gangsta's back Stop it right where you at Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that Gotchu feelin it hard like Joe the God's really bringin it back! I'm from my days and legends, since age eleven I was the cause of dope fiends catchin AIDS infections Most of us are dead, but the rest is locked Runnin in the rec room and check me out on the box A CEO could get optioned tryna change the channel It's like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibals Joe the God, the flow is hard Known for packin two dozen birds like Noah's Ark I'm the realest of 'em, make you feel the pressure Catch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leather You niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mix Tough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a bitch I see you downin the Cris', I'm not hatin, I'm just aggrevated I ask myself every day, how these faggots made it? Fuck around with the Don and get decapitated I'm sick of hearin 'em (?) for all the cats that made it *Repeat **Aiyyo the kid is back Leave it right where you at Let a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clap Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back I'm feelin tight and I'm hot Ready to pop the crack right through your back That's how Kenny rocks, I'm more advanced than how your learnin I'm like the force of space balance and planets while they churnin Poppin rosary beads, piss on ya candle while it's burnin Rush ya widows crib and pop ya... bodies... Now I know you can feel the heat I generate Imagine when I penetrate ya stomach, and make ya body's center bake We can argue for days, whether it's faster to drop five shots in ya astronaut before you cloud the stash box Splash ya brains on ya birds' laps Swerve you on the curb, crash the Range, and push the front skirt back And murk after that, blurtin curse words Yo I popped that nigga's son one before we catch the first I'ma kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin up Blood, chokin on chunks of his lung interior Every verse that I spit's a personal riff I meet a ill key frontin, I'm a murder you shit Niggaz play me while distrubin the Bricks I'm like the feelin of the first time they ever held a bird in they grip Motivator thug, scrape 'em, shoot the bolts in his butt Energizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em up Actin like I can't happen till I smack him in his Adam's apple Death to rappin, I don't wanna battle I'd rather rush your studio session and shatter the booth Clap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof *Repeat **Repeat |
|||||
|
|
3:26 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
{*background*}
(Ya'll wanna live my lifestyle Never seen a brick, never seen a crackhouse Wanna a war with the Don have your techs out Bring it on, and I'ma show you gangsta) {*lapses over*} Yeah...ughh...right back at you motherfuckers....ughh...yeah.. [Verse 1] Yo, Yo, I stand alone in this cold world, could you believe that? I've seen some good men get blown over G-packs In the Bronx where it's known to hear the heat clap And live niggaz get it on with the D-techs, SHIT, my life's legendary If I wrote down all in a book it would be very scary What you know 16 be missin' Benzes Rope chain down to my dick, the beef looks tremendous Me and my niggaz flip holes in bitches Back then, when I wouldn't even pose for bitches A-YO, you can ask dapadan who was the man Back in 88, every other week tricked 30 grand Even my bitches wore Gucci and Louie My peeps already in the crowd looking for groupies to screw me Exit the club, about to cruise up the block now with the taj, stay frontin' with top down See me in that new thing with my fiancee Ass so fat, making you say "Muchos GRANDE" Don't blame me, blame them, the white folk for giving me ten mil, for possessin' the tight flow WHOA [Chorus: repeat 2X] Ya'll wanna live my lifestyle Never seen a brick, never seen a crackhouse Wanna a war with the Don have your techs out Bring it on, and I'm show you gangsta [Verse 2] {*lapse over chorus*} Yeah, yeah, uh, yo, blow half your head off, leave you with brain damage He got his shit rocked cause he didn't pay homage It's the Don of this rap shit, go on with that wack shit Heard you walked the dorm in a thong on your last bid Joey Crack is, the most official Toke the pistol for those who appose the issue I hope I convinced you to back up, really you acted up, believe me I could EASILY GET YOUR ASS TOUCHED And that sucks, ain't nobody could fuck with this Bullet shook could make you take a bucket of piss For runnin' your lips Got the fifth stuck in your ribs, don't make me... splash your lungs right in front of your kids I'm a basketcase, don't ever give this bastard space or I'ma have your ass erased I'm from the Bronx amongst corrupt cops, we mothered this rap shit But still don't get enough props All I hear is "Gangsta" you ain't build like that Don't make me have to pull a tool and really tilt your cap I'm from crills to crack You've been dealin' with rap You ain't never run the streets, now I'm revealing your act What the fuck [Chorus: repeat 2X] Ya'll wanna live my lifestyle Never seen a brick, never seen a crackhouse Wanna a war with the Don have your techs out Bring it on, and I'm show you gangsta |
|||||
|
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
* feat. Remy Martin
Let's go.. 'Got another hit, of fresh air!!' 'Oooooh, got another hit!' [Fat Joe] Platinum chains, down to my dick I'm so sick, like flames, light up ya bitch Get it hot like 'dro, and firin and pink slips You at the club alone now she hidin in my whip (But kick it) I know just what you need; you need to fuck with me Cuz when you ballin with Joey you in another league Somethin like Doji, Chloe diamonds, and better weed I'm four-wheelin through roads you mighta never seen Take you on trips, you know the minimal shit, the basic Long as your dip is official, if we're twistin you lace it Spit it amazin when I'm layin the mack game I could, put 'em in chains and give 'em blings and cashy rings Like delicious, thug passionate candy cane Know you could, stay witcha mayne and just (?) I ball with the best of them, flossin the emblem First playa front get applause from T.S. and them (Clap my niggaz) [Hook - Fat Joe + Remy Martin] [FJ] I know what bitches like (What?) They wanna live it live They want a nigga with eight figures that can give 'em ice They wanna chill up in Villa with me every night [RM] Yeah pa you got it right That's what my bitches like But I know what niggaz like (What?) They wanna hit it right They want a chick that's willin to strip on the first night (True) The type of chick that'll make you forget about ya wife [FJ] Yeah ma you got it right That's what my niggaz like [Remy Martin] I pull up to the club in the truck Like what, the FUCK, IS UP! I stay out with the blunt, cuz I don't give a fuck With, L-I-D niggaz, know who I be And I know what niggaz like, niggaz like me Pretty Remy on the rocks in the V.I.P. See, niggaz like menages and overnight parties Butt naked bitches in the hotel lobby I plays the bar cuz they don't charge me Plus niggaz like dogs to broads in white T's Outside it's a fight over me Cuz I'm with niggaz like, 'Yeah, you better get it right' 'You know my shit is tight' If you live we'll be fuckin today, as long as you ain't Touchin my pay, this shit is nothin to me I got my mind right, my money right, I'm pushin a Benz Plus I'm a dime like (Whoa!) Got niggaz lookin for Rem' [Hook: Fat Joe + Remy Martin] [RM] I know what niggaz like (What?) They wanna hit it right They want a chick that's willin to strip on the first night (True) The type of chick that'll make you forget about ya wife (C'mon) [FJ] Yeah ma you got it right That's what my niggaz like I know what bitches like (What?) They wanna live the life They want a nigga with eight figures that can give 'em ice They wanna chill up in Villa with me every night [RM] Yeah pa you got it right That's what my bitches like [Fat Joe] You know a lot mama How be take a nice cruise to the Ba-ha-mas With ice daquiris and jewels, picture Just me and you under the palm trees Up on the beach in your bikini and we feelin the breeze [Remy Martin] But baby, I know just what you need You need some Hennessey (Uh-huh) And in a minute we'll finish it with a little me Sex into sleepin on bedsheets outta Italy Then send yo' ass back home without no energy [Fat Joe] Yo, after I take you on a night on the town We could, slide to the telly when nobody's around The next-door neighbors complainin because they hearin the sound [Both] It's goin down da-down da-down, da-da-da-da-da-da down [Hook - Fat Joe + Remy Martin] [FJ] I know what bitches like (What?) They wanna live it live They want a nigga with eight figures that can give 'em ice They wanna chill up in Villa with me every night [RM] Yeah pa you got it right That's what my bitches like But I know what niggaz like (What?) They wanna hit it right They want a chick that's willin to strip on the first night (True) The type of chick that'll make you forget about ya wife [FJ] Yeah ma you got it right That's what my niggaz like Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit |
|||||
|
|
4:11 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
It's so depressing, uh..
Be the realest shit I ever wrote (Money and cars bitches) Shit Is Real Part 2.. (drugs) modern day.. (society yaknow?) See what it's like to walk in my shoes It ain't all fun and games (ya heard?) Yo yo I'm sick and tired of stressin, every days a different lesson I'm free-fallin tryna leave this deep depression My son Joey still slow, my moms got cancer in her throat My big brother sniffin dope Lemme know how many motherfucker wanna be just like me Screamed at and treated like shit by your wifey This hot bitch be sweatin the coke cash My baby mother think I grow dough out my ass It's like, how much fight I got left in me? Niggaz won't be happy till they bring the fuckin death of me But you never see Joe look weak or flow off beat and Charlie sees the board in four more weeks *You gotta walk where I walked Bang where I bang Slang where I hang To get where I'm going to Stay where I stay Blaze who I blazed Pay dues how I payed To get where I'm going to *Repeat Uh, yo, the South Bronx, nine years later Ain't nuttin changed, niggaz still playa haters T.S. the best that's done it, forever live and never front it Reminisce of when I used to hold heat and tell niggaz "run it" Now we flooded with jewels, hundreds of dudes Crowd the Coliseum to hear they favorite tunes Then at the time of our prime we caught a sick one The angels came down, took my twin Big Pun Shit were unbalanced throughout the whole world All I could do was try to provide for his seeds and his old girl Hope your listenin, tell Ton' that we still missin him I'm like a prisoner in jail with no visitors *Repeat (x2) Yeah, uh, aiyyo the third verse is dedicated to you Even though you switched teams, I'm praying for you We used to stay up all night countin dollar for dollar You was my son's godfather, where the fuck is your honor? Can't even rap the shit we did together You'd probably have me shackled locked down doin bids forever You broke the first code I'd like to twist ya wifey till it roasts gold Snitch nigga, turned state to sold ya soul How could a nigga that was clappin in the streets start yappin to the deez, like what I rightly should believe? Like ever verse is a charge, for every hurt there's a scar I never once tried to hurt cha'll I'm just tryna do me, sell a few CD's Buy land in Miami and cop a new B come on! Motherfuckers think it's sweet Think a nigga got money and a nigga don't feel pain You ain't never feel my pain You don't know what the fuck I'm goin through Niggaz lookin at me like, "He got it made" Like I ain't lose Pun, my grandfather a week later My aunt a month later Like my fuckin sister ain't in a coma right now! You motherfuckers don't know pain! Let's get one thing clear; money'll never buy you happiness My true niggaz walk with me now! *Repeat (x2) |
|||||
|
|
0:58 |
|
||
| from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001) | |||||
|
|
3:34 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
(Ooohhh, mmm)
Yea, uh, uh (Fat Joe and the R) That shit y'all (Breakin shit down) Shake that, funky, funky, funky (Yeah) Sticky, icky, icky - yeah uh I got that shit y'all I got that shit y'all Uh yo yo Crackman and I'm at it again Niggas had they run, now it's time for change When we step in the club, nigga tuck ya chain Got the mink on - same color the Range Uh, pour liqour for my nigga that's gone Big Pun! Then we party like we just came home Fuck a bitch if she act to grown I don't need that shit, I got my wife at home Uh words slurrin, dirty urine Drunk off of Henny and the 'jo keep burnin Dancin with shorty and her friend keep flirtin I don't always crush two but tonight seems certain Party hard like "Fuck all y'all!" Bottles in the air like we stuck up the bar Terror Squad man you know who we are Cruise through ya block and them drop-top Bentley Azures *Yeah, we thuggin, rollin on dubs and, Off up in the club, whylin like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, mami don't stop Throwin up six o'clock, plus I got four hun-nies in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full with hunnies, panties with no tops We take a puff of 'dro and be aight Yea uh, yea yea yo Everybody wanna know where the crib's at Niggas just now gettin ice, so we get that Mami starin at me like she wanna get kidnapped Money lookin happy with his wife but we triz that Along with Lisa, Aisha, Shonda, Renee Even ran through the dorms down in Morgan State In Miami, pool-party off the chain Gettin brains in the water on Memorial Day Uh, grand-mami all cool and shit It's ya birthday, show me what I'm foolin with Like no doubt, pokin doll out, pull ya g-string down south Owww! Pass that, give shorty a shot Soon enough we gon' see if she naughty or not I'm on E feelin ready and hot, I give 'em twenty a pop You wanna roll, leave the panties atop *Repeat Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper Yeah, Terror Squad, Rockland what the fuck what Fat Joe, R. Kelly we proper Uh, uh, Rockland, Terror Squad what the fuck what Some of these kids is doin they own thing But none of these kids stack chips like us Some of these cats is doin they own thing But none of these cats run tricks like us *Repeat Haha, yeah uh You know what this is Chi-town - BX What the fuck what? Out... |
|||||
|
|
3:56 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
* feat. Busta Rhymes, Noreaga, Remy Martin
[Fat Joe] Ha, ha, ha, ha Uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh For my dirty, dirty D.C. what? Uh, yeah, uh, T.S. Remix y'all [Remy Martin] Remix y'all [Fat Joe] Remix y'all [Remy Martin] The remix y'all [Fat Joe] Crack is back again (ooo-oooh) Had to rip this track again (ooo-oooh) [Remy Martin] And when it's packed like The Garden You know it's the Squadron [Fat Joe] The god, Fat Joe [Remy Martin] And that bitch, Remy Martin [Remy Martin & R. Kelly] We thuggin' [Fat Joe] You know the rest Got the tank top on that show the vest [Remy Martin] I know some chickens that be strippin' and they show they breasts And they all think Joe the best [Fat Joe] Well it's on if they got no regrets Bring them hoes to the low crib by the lake on the coldest sect I got chicks butt-naked feelin' no redress [Remy Martin] Okay, I'm on my way with a load of cess But, I got four niggas in my truck [Fat Joe] And if you bring 'em to my crib, they gettin' fucked up [Remy Martin] I'ma sneak 'em in the back as soon as y'all drunk [Remy Martin & Fat Joe] We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) [R. Kelly] Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and Off up in the club, wildin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause I got four hon-eys in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) [Noreaga] Ay, yo, twin ho days and we makin' it hot (say what?) Numero uno on your billboard spot (what, nigga?) Since the days of flow Joe, we be makin' it hot Before Superthug, niggas sold crack on the block You see, uh [Noreaga & R. Kelly] We thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and [Noreaga] Niggas say they still in them bricks, but they wasn't Me and Big Pun ran trains on mad cousins Mami took an E and a half and three wasn't And nigga, yeah, I'ma stay right here (ain't goin' nowhere) It's thugged-out Miller-tainment, and it's somethin' to fear And I ain't got time for diss records (no time for that) Catch me in the streets, and I'ma leave your muthafuckin' bitch naked FJ 560, the five ride with me (we got honeys, y'all) I got some mamis in the club wanna slide with me Ho's at, I drunk 'nough y'all yay Me and my Joe, Hennessey doubles and lattes (hey!) [R. Kelly] Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and Off up in the club, wildin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause I got four hon-eys in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) [Busta Rhymes] In 2001, we move fast I had to fuck a couple fat bitches all in they ass Yes, I get busy and know and I do all I can (can) Had to meet up with them Terror Squad niggas, my man (man) Yeah, I see a couple of niggas that look real bugged In the corner frontin' like a bunch of real, live thugs Frontin', stackin' my ones and I'm countin' these figgas Got a cooler bitch that's mo' thug than some of these niggas Fuckin' me now, suckin' my ass late Straight drinkin' the Henny, sippin' with no chaser When my bitches be thuggin' niggas that catch vapors Lovin' how my bitches be givin' me paper One by one, watchin' y'all niggas drop off You wack niggas will feel when you hear my gun pop off Get my rocks off, that's when I'm quick to knock your block off And hold a gat when I'm fuckin' and never take my socks off [R. Kelly] Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and Off up in the club, wildin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause I got four hon-eys in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) |
|||||
|
|
4:27 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
(Fat Joe)
Put the fuckin' mic on Mic is on Joe crack the dawn uh yeah, yeah y'all Irv Gotti (Ashanti) What's love? (Fat Joe) Ashanti, Terror, Terror Squad It should be about us Be about trust Ashanti (Ja Rule) {Fat Joe} What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) {Yeah, Yeah, Y'All} What's love? It's about us {It's about us} It's about trust babe {Be about trust} What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) {Yeah, Yeah, Uh} What's love? It should be about us {It should be about us} It should be about trust babe {Be about trust} What's love? (Fat Joe) Yeah, yeah, uh, uh, woo, yeah, slow down baby Let you know from the gate I don't go down lady I wanna chick with thick hips That licks her lips She can be the office type or like to strip Girl you get me aroused how you look in my eye But you talk to much man your ruinin' my high Don't wanna lose the feelin' Cause the roof is chillin' It's on fire & you lookin' Good for the gettin' I'm rida Other in a hoodie or a linner I'ma provider You should see the jewelery on my women & I'm livin' it up The squad stay feelin' the truck With Chicks that's willin' to triz with us uh You say you gotta man & your in love But what's love Gotta do with a little menage After the party Just me & you Could just slide for a few & she could come too That's love! Chorus (Fat Joe) Yeah, uh, yeah, yo, mommy, I know you got issues You gotta man But you need to understand That you got something with you Ass is fat, frame is little Tattoo in your chest with his name in the middle Uh, I'm not a hater I just crush a lot & the way you shake your booty I don't want you to stop You Need to come a little closer (You need to come a little closer) & let me put you under my arm like a Don is supposed ta (Like a Don is supposed ta) Please believe You leave with me We'd be freakin' all night like we was on E You need to trust the god & jump in the car For a little hard 8 at the Taj Mahal What's love? Chorus Verse 3: Fat Joe, Ashanti Yeah, uh, yo, I stroll in the club with my hat down Michael Jack style Hot 7 who the mack now? Not my fault cause they love the kid Ma be the chain or the whip I don't know what it is We just party & bullshit Come on mommy put your body in motion You gotta nigga open You came here with the heart to cheat So you need to sing the song with me All my ladies come on Ashanti (Fat Joe) When I look in your eyes there's no stopin' me I want the Don Joey Crack on top of me (Uh-huh) Don't want your stacks (Yeah) Just break my back (Uh) Gonna cut you no sack (Whoo) Cause I'm on it like that (Uh, Come On) Come on (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) & put it (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) on me (Put it on ya Girl) on me (I'm put it on ya Girl) Chorus 2 Times |
|||||
|
|
3:36 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Jealous Ones Still Envy (2001)
* feat. Prospect, Xzibit
[Fat Joe] Yeah, uh, dat gangsta shit! Shout to my homies out west The hoo-bangers! Mack Deezy for Sheezy All my niggas in the Bronx Holdin them corners down Ya heard? Get it right! [Verse 1: Fat Joe] Joe cracks back, been a long time comin No mean to disrespect but a lot of ya'lls frontin Shook niggas, me and the Squad done took niggas Flex drop bombs but you seem to overlook niggas We the nicest in the game, even lifers know the name Throwin blows like Tyson when he rained Fuck the ice in the range, I'm tryin to get stocked Generate mil's so I can buy back my old block It's like the rap games far from the crack game Niggas is mad lane (How come?) They act tame You can tell from my scars life is hard Shot down in broad day life in front of my Mom's And the feds never give up, they tryin to kill us I'm stressed drinkin (?)tearin my liver Livin my life like I dont care I'm out to take the throne My mom's in the window hopin I'ma make it home The streets is funny peeps'll kill you over piece of money, 'specially if you sleepin And dont keep it gully, I'm from the bronx Home of niggas that'll stalk you senseless Dont resent this, I'm knowin that you comprehend this Its the wild life, niggas done lost they mind Its the wild life, everybody wanna floss and shine But could you blame them? Niggas is brought up with anger Pops in jail, Moms get tossed up on stangers [Prospect] Yo its the wild life Where peeps takin life for keeps Yo its the wild life We all brawlin, fight to eat The enemies and the deeds lurk through N.Y.C Some of them on they back lookin up Like 'Yo, why me?' [Verse 2: Prospect] I never really had a pops But who the fucks to blame He did 13, and wonder why the steets my name And he's my game, cuz I'm the type To leak your frame, give you a slap With the cast, you can meet my pain Defeat I bring, to the nicest rapper you know I aint a killer but I still might clap at shooters, you for real here Niggas be followin with steps I made my own moves, so the tokers Could swallow they breath Acknowledge the best, and do what I did Like I'm blessed, 7 days in a coma This is life after death I'm in it to win, ya heard? From beginning to end, you could get shot even though you once considered a friend Sometimes my minds driven to win Tryin to scare society But cant slip again cuz my lil' man relyin me Everyday I put through a test But still progress I'm tryin to climb hills And tryin to make me kill for less Yo its the wild life Where peeps takin life for keeps Yo its the wild life We all brawlin, fight to eat The enemies and the deeds lurk through N.Y.C Some of them on they back lookin up Like 'Yo, why me?' [Xzibit] Yo its the wildlife Straight kidnappin and carjackin Yo its the wildlife Nigga fuck scrappin, we all packin I'ma smash on anybody disrespectin the turf Sraight to the dirt We niggas known for puttin in work [Verse 3: Xzibit] I make it all go down right In front of your face Another life goes to waste For names sake of the paper chaser It aint safe here, the bright lights cablide you Mix sedica, swollow you whole They cant find you Worst thing is walkin these streets I need clarity, peace and prosperity Is never gon' see, so niggas with beef Niggas bumpin they gums and teeth Straight to the police Tryin to plant us six feet deep But I aint goin for that My shit clap through your starter cap Pull your socks back, we aint runnin from nothin Comin from nothin, makes you struggle harder for somethin Shit is disgusting, you can even trust who you fuckin The wild life! Colder the nights You niggas aint nice, put yo money where yo mouth is And roll the dice, puffin canibus and tiva With the Don Cartagena, believe a nigga When I say, dont make me have to spray ya Yo its the wildlife Straight kidnappin and carjackin Yo its the wildlife Nigga fuck scrappin, we all packin I'ma smash on anybody disrespectin the turf Sraight to the dirt We niggas known for puttin in work |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from The Fast And The Furious (분노의 질주) by Brian Tyler [ost] (2001)
Murder Inc.
Thugged Out Franchise Funk Flex Big dog pit bulls! Two suburbans and a fucking Hurst! Cause Funk Flex and Nore are killin' em out there! Scream at ya boy! Yo me and Pun used to slap niggas And pack macs in the back of the hatch with black niggas On weekends with the Ricans cause nigga I fit You see I'm half fucking black and motherfucking spik Should have learned a long time ago Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn How I hit a nigga up Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn Niggas fans worry you see us smear off in cranberry My shots come in, in threes, like Maubary Wanna see how these fake niggas'll act When my shotgun will erase there stomach and back Call me Hosea, more shoot outs, most guns Most of these niggas just mostly run You see I'm back spittin' and still cooking in the kitchen I'm still a chef ain't a fucking gram missing Niggas out of order you know shit gone change How they life getting shorter like Mr. T's chain *The bass and the music that'll make you jump It go Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, dunn Why you acting like a punk before we put you in a trunk You going Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, dunn Acting wild like the hill with my hand on the pump It go Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, dunn Fuck it we getting drunk and smoking that skunk Y'all going Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, Tudunn, dunn Yeah, It's going down! Funk Flex, Nore! My caller ID is fucked up I can't see the number Feeling like Stevie Wonder, the hood took me under I miss my niggas I wanna see em All my niggas that's dead laying in mausoleums For my niggas that's locked up the same shit I told y'all niggas I hold y'all niggas to all this Picture us going all legit with all this Line em up; get em all together they all miss See all my niggas we starvin' and waitin' To take a nigga hockey mask off like Jason Better Armstrong face drop to the pavement In 2000 I don't get along with niggas That's why you never me on a song with a niggas Just my clique roll strong them niggas And wait till we see y'all it's on with you niggas And I could just slap y'all go on little niggas * Repeat Big dog pit bulls! Funk Flex, Big Kap! Cipher sounds! Mr. Cee! Johnny Walker Red, DJ Kiore! Frank Jigga, Corey Ock! The Funk Regulator C-note! Keep It Gator! And keep it global! SPKilla this shit is fucking ugly! Cut this shit off, it's a fucking wrap |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Funkmaster Flex - The Mix Tape Volume III - 60 Minutes Of Funk - The Final Chapter (2001) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Brandy - U Don`T Know Me (2001) | |||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Brandy - U Don`T Know Me (2001)
[Mase]
Brandy... Dark Child... Mase Kid Harlem on the rise Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on, Come on I went from Helly Hansons to mini-mansions The girls in Aruba doing belly-dancings Spent half of my advancing Jaws from Branson I make it through my circumstances But u know I'm wiser now Move like kaiser now Gotta butter soft cover just to hide my pound Gotta house in the valley Come and find me now Got enough dough to buy the town So I might give a 6 to my chick Benz to my mom Crib so big it look like Sinigon Give her a couch just to spill my henny on And Benadon since Lados and Benaton [Brandy] Some people say that I'm not the same girl They say they think I'm in my own world What makes them think that I have changed A little dough cannot earse my problems Me like you I have to try and solve them Yes everything is quite the same [Chorus] I'm just trying to be me Doing what I gotta do Some people think that I'm just sittin' on top of the world I wonder why it's often said my life's a fairy tale And everything if so right I wish that you could know the truth My life is real so please don't get it twisted Problems the same and gotta be dealt with These are the things I wish you knew Always in someone's eye so many questions why How is it to be down with me with me Afraid to express myself always me and someone else I need to be free but it's not that easy [Chorus] Don't understand why people Think I don't have friends Who knew me back when This was my dream nothing has changed I still do the same things [Mase] Yo, you can stop cookin short if it ain't about cake I ain't sittin on top I want a house on a lake I'm that snooty nosed cat with a new Bm If you mess with Brandy I gotta bruise your chin I be with Puff the girls be like "Who's his friend?" If I hit a chick once you probarbly move me in So you gotta tell me right now Either you wit the cats that make the hits or the ones that see the chips[slow down Mase you killin me] But don't stop it What's the use fo buyin a weight if I'ma have to chop it I use the lots a lady till I learned the logics She only mess with Ma$e know the money not an object If it ain't crissy he won't pop it If it ain't platnium with ice he won't rock it If it don't cost 60 he don't drop it If it don't come with tv's he don't cop it u can stop it, yea yea yea what what what -Chorus- Brandy on top of the world Dark Child on top of the world Ma$e be on top of the world Harlem world be on top of the world Brandy on top of the world Dark Child be on top of the world M-A dollar sign-E all over the world' Brandy all over the world (2x) All over the world... Yeah, yeah, yeah What, what Yeah, yeah, yeah, what, what, what |
|||||
 |
|
3:17 |
|
||
|
from Run-D.M.C - Crown Royal (2001)
Ay papi, tu sabe, yo tengo (??)
[Run] Got senoritas in Adidas over in Spain The Don of San Juan got 'em goin insane Got chicks in Spanish Harlem holdin they brain In Sao Paolo they follow, doin the same Admiration for Run since |
|||||
 |
|
3:27 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - We Thuggin' [single] (2001)
* feat. Busta Rhymes, Noreaga, Remy Martin
[Fat Joe] Ha, ha, ha, ha Uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh For my dirty, dirty D.C. what? Uh, yeah, uh, T.S. Remix y'all [Remy Martin] Remix y'all [Fat Joe] Remix y'all [Remy Martin] The remix y'all [Fat Joe] Crack is back again (ooo-oooh) Had to rip this track again (ooo-oooh) [Remy Martin] And when it's packed like The Garden You know it's the Squadron [Fat Joe] The god, Fat Joe [Remy Martin] And that bitch, Remy Martin [Remy Martin & R. Kelly] We thuggin' [Fat Joe] You know the rest Got the tank top on that show the vest [Remy Martin] I know some chickens that be strippin' and they show they breasts And they all think Joe the best [Fat Joe] Well it's on if they got no regrets Bring them hoes to the low crib by the lake on the coldest sect I got chicks butt-naked feelin' no redress [Remy Martin] Okay, I'm on my way with a load of cess But, I got four niggas in my truck [Fat Joe] And if you bring 'em to my crib, they gettin' fucked up [Remy Martin] I'ma sneak 'em in the back as soon as y'all drunk [Remy Martin & Fat Joe] We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) [R. Kelly] Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and Off up in the club, wildin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause I got four hon-eys in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) [Noreaga] Ay, yo, twin ho days and we makin' it hot (say what?) Numero uno on your billboard spot (what, nigga?) Since the days of flow Joe, we be makin' it hot Before Superthug, niggas sold crack on the block You see, uh [Noreaga & R. Kelly] We thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and [Noreaga] Niggas say they still in them bricks, but they wasn't Me and Big Pun ran trains on mad cousins Mami took an E and a half and three wasn't And nigga, yeah, I'ma stay right here (ain't goin' nowhere) It's thugged-out Miller-tainment, and it's somethin' to fear And I ain't got time for diss records (no time for that) Catch me in the streets, and I'ma leave your muthafuckin' bitch naked FJ 560, the five ride with me (we got honeys, y'all) I got some mamis in the club wanna slide with me Ho's at, I drunk 'nough y'all yay Me and my Joe, Hennessey doubles and lattes (hey!) [R. Kelly] Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and Off up in the club, wildin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause I got four hon-eys in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) [Busta Rhymes] In 2001, we move fast I had to fuck a couple fat bitches all in they ass Yes, I get busy and know and I do all I can (can) Had to meet up with them Terror Squad niggas, my man (man) Yeah, I see a couple of niggas that look real bugged In the corner frontin' like a bunch of real, live thugs Frontin', stackin' my ones and I'm countin' these figgas Got a cooler bitch that's mo' thug than some of these niggas Fuckin' me now, suckin' my ass late Straight drinkin' the Henny, sippin' with no chaser When my bitches be thuggin' niggas that catch vapors Lovin' how my bitches be givin' me paper One by one, watchin' y'all niggas drop off You wack niggas will feel when you hear my gun pop off Get my rocks off, that's when I'm quick to knock your block off And hold a gat when I'm fuckin' and never take my socks off [R. Kelly] Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and Off up in the club, wildin' like what Got Cris' on pop, Henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause I got four hon-eys in the drop And my man Joe's got the keys to the spot And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh) |
|||||
 |
|
3:50 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - What's Luv? [single] (2002)
[Fat Joe:]
Put the fuckin' mic on Mic is on Joe Crack the Don uh Yeah, Yeah, Y'All Irv Gotti [Ashanti:] What's love? [Fat Joe:] Ashanti, Terror, Terror Squad It should be about us Be about trust [Chorus: Ashanti (Ja Rule) {Fat Joe}] What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) {Yeah, Yeah, Y'All} What's love? It's about us {It's about us} It's about trust babe {Be about trust} What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) {Yeah, Yeah, Uh} What's love? It should be about us {It should be about us} It should be about trust babe {Be about trust} What's love? [Verse 1: Fat Joe] Yeah, yeah, uh, uh, woo, yeah, slow down baby Let you know from the gate I don't go down lady I wanna chick with thick hips That licks her lips She can be the office type or like to strip Girl you get me aroused how you look in my eye But you talk to much man your ruinin' my high Don't wanna lose the feelin' Cause the roof is chillin' It's on fire & you lookin' Good for the gettin' I'm rida Other in a hoodie or a linner I'ma provider You should see the jewelery on my women & I'm livin' it up The squad stay feelin' the truck With Chicks that's willin' to triz with us uh You say you gotta man & your in love But what's love Gotta do with a little menage After the party Just me & you Could just slide for a few & she could come too That's love! [Chorus] [Verse 2: Fat Joe] Yeah, uh, yeah, yo, mommy, I know you got issues You gotta man But you need to understand That you got something with you Ass is fat, frame is little Tattoo in your chest with his name in the middle Uh, I'm not a hater I just crush a lot & the way you shake your booty I don't want you to stop You Need to come a little closer (You need to come a little closer) & let me put you under my arm like a Don is supposed ta (Like a Don is supposed ta) Please believe You leave with me We'd be freakin' all night like we was on E You need to trust the god & jump in the car For a little hard 8 at the Taj Mahal What's love? [Chorus] [Verse 3: Fat Joe, Ashanti] Yeah, uh, yo, I stroll in the club with my hat down Michael Jack style Hot 7 who the mack now? Not my fault cause they love the kid Ma be the chain or the whip I don't know what it is We just party & bullshit Come on mommy put your body in motion You gotta nigga open You came here with the heart to cheat So you need to sing the song with me All my ladies come on [Ashanti (Fat Joe)] When I look in your eyes there's no stopin' me I want the Don Joey Crack on top of me (Uh-huh) Don't want your stacks (Yeah) Just break my back (Uh) Gonna cut you no sack (Whoo) Cause I'm on it like that (Uh, Come On) Come on (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) & put it (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) on me (Put it on ya Girl) on me (I'm put it on ya Girl) [Chorus 2 Times] |
|||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
| from Bait (2002) | |||||
 |
|
4:04 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Opposites Attract [single] (2002)
* feat. Remy Martin
Let's go.. 'Got another hit, of fresh air!!' 'Oooooh, got another hit!' [Fat Joe] Platinum chains, down to my dick I'm so sick, like flames, light up ya bitch Get it hot like 'dro, and firin and pink slips You at the club alone now she hidin in my whip (But kick it) I know just what you need; you need to fuck with me Cuz when you ballin with Joey you in another league Somethin like Doji, Chloe diamonds, and better weed I'm four-wheelin through roads you mighta never seen Take you on trips, you know the minimal shit, the basic Long as your dip is official, if we're twistin you lace it Spit it amazin when I'm layin the mack game I could, put 'em in chains and give 'em blings and cashy rings Like delicious, thug passionate candy cane Know you could, stay witcha mayne and just (?) I ball with the best of them, flossin the emblem First playa front get applause from T.S. and them (Clap my niggaz) [Hook - Fat Joe + Remy Martin] [FJ] I know what bitches like (What?) They wanna live it live They want a nigga with eight figures that can give 'em ice They wanna chill up in Villa with me every night [RM] Yeah pa you got it right That's what my bitches like But I know what niggaz like (What?) They wanna hit it right They want a chick that's willin to strip on the first night (True) The type of chick that'll make you forget about ya wife [FJ] Yeah ma you got it right That's what my niggaz like [Remy Martin] I pull up to the club in the truck Like what, the FUCK, IS UP! I stay out with the blunt, cuz I don't give a fuck With, L-I-D niggaz, know who I be And I know what niggaz like, niggaz like me Pretty Remy on the rocks in the V.I.P. See, niggaz like menages and overnight parties Butt naked bitches in the hotel lobby I plays the bar cuz they don't charge me Plus niggaz like dogs to broads in white T's Outside it's a fight over me Cuz I'm with niggaz like, 'Yeah, you better get it right' 'You know my shit is tight' If you live we'll be fuckin today, as long as you ain't Touchin my pay, this shit is nothin to me I got my mind right, my money right, I'm pushin a Benz Plus I'm a dime like (Whoa!) Got niggaz lookin for Rem' [Hook: Fat Joe + Remy Martin] [RM] I know what niggaz like (What?) They wanna hit it right They want a chick that's willin to strip on the first night (True) The type of chick that'll make you forget about ya wife (C'mon) [FJ] Yeah ma you got it right That's what my niggaz like I know what bitches like (What?) They wanna live the life They want a nigga with eight figures that can give 'em ice They wanna chill up in Villa with me every night [RM] Yeah pa you got it right That's what my bitches like [Fat Joe] You know a lot mama How be take a nice cruise to the Ba-ha-mas With ice daquiris and jewels, picture Just me and you under the palm trees Up on the beach in your bikini and we feelin the breeze [Remy Martin] But baby, I know just what you need You need some Hennessey (Uh-huh) And in a minute we'll finish it with a little me Sex into sleepin on bedsheets outta Italy Then send yo' ass back home without no energy [Fat Joe] Yo, after I take you on a night on the town We could, slide to the telly when nobody's around The next-door neighbors complainin because they hearin the sound [Both] It's goin down da-down da-down, da-da-da-da-da-da down [Hook - Fat Joe + Remy Martin] [FJ] I know what bitches like (What?) They wanna live it live They want a nigga with eight figures that can give 'em ice They wanna chill up in Villa with me every night [RM] Yeah pa you got it right That's what my bitches like But I know what niggaz like (What?) They wanna hit it right They want a chick that's willin to strip on the first night (True) The type of chick that'll make you forget about ya wife [FJ] Yeah ma you got it right That's what my niggaz like Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit Hit.. got another hit |
|||||
 |
|
3:43 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Crush Tonight [single] (2002)
Baby, if you wit' it, just clap yo' hands Stop playin' girl, back that ass up and Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and Freak that girl like you tryna have a baby cuz Everybody's out to fuck tonight The fine women, they out to fuck tonight My niggas, they down to fuck tonight Ladies, fellas, the won't stop players [Fat Joe] Came through the door, seen it before Hands touchin' the ceiling, booty streakin' the floor You ever felt good to the point you so sure that All the attention in the club is yours Got your hair done up, shades Christian Dior Leave us, trade a little happy on your Vickey draws Gettin' your dance on hard, who could wish for more And your crew's all but know it's a horse Got the Don all warm and it ain't the Hen' Feelin' like the Don woman, you could wrestle her chin Shorty, come a little closer while the record spin I wanna freak a little longer, can they play it again [Repeat 1] Yo, got my mind on my money, money on my mind And to let you know, you just as good as gold It's like we got our own little private party goin' on And the scene just changed into shores of San Juan It's so intimate, we so into it Such a tender thing, but fuck I'm innocent Grindin' so hard you gotta know what I'm thinkin' Laughin' cuz I'mma kidnap you for the weekend Now we at the pad about to crack a case Playin' the couch like Ceasar's, she feedin' me grapes Not for nuttin' hon, the sex is great But you know you got to go, I got checks to chase... next [Repeat 1] [Ginuwine] If you're w |
|||||
 |
|
4:47 |
|
||
| from Bootsy Collins - Play With Bootsy (2002) | |||||
 |
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
{Na-na-na-na-na}
Who you gonna trust, yeah {Whoa...} You could trust me, ha-ha-ha (Uh) I dont care about nothin else, my baby (To all the ladies in our lives, you heard) {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you (Strong independent women, come on, uh) {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Yeah, uh What you think gangstas dont cry, get hurt by lies Times you embarrass me, I swallow my pride Im tired of tellin you I got nothin to hide Im in the studio at night, you think Im out with the guys Every time I speak to you, you got somethin to say Accordin to you I must be crushin all day All Im askin you for is to be more trustin Im outta town all the time and dont accuse you of nothin Picture me creepin with a chick on tour When you love my sons as if they was yours I know at times you feel alone cause Im not home Thats why every few hours I pick up the phone And reassure you my love is more then a scene I adore you my wife, my Colombian queen I promise to never stray, Im honored every day To have a woman like you in the life of Jose, hey I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Yeah, how Im supposed to start this First and first you my queen goddess My moon, my earth, the wisdom to a n****s knowledge I swear to God, it amazes me how you stay in college And still manage to raise my baby boy when Im gone and Tourin, makin dollars, assumin that I love you, but regardless I feel its time I showed you, bless you with this ring Now thats somethin to hold you down till a n**** come back Me and my lady got history, shes worth it Deserves more then this cold world is givin me to share with her word And I dont care about nothin else except my girl {My girl} Not myself, no one else, just my girl {My girl} You bring life to my world, you give me strength to go on And face life even when it seems all hopes gone Labeled my wife, but you truly exceed the title You my future, my happiness, my heart, my idol I promise, girl, that I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Oh...} Cause all I need is you {I promise I wont stare} (Ha-ha) Cause all I need is you (This is goin out to you, you, you and you) {All I need, all I need, baby} Cause all I need is you {Oh...oh...} Yeah, uh To all the ladies out there if you love your man You need to hold your man, embrace your man And just grab his hand, repeat after me I promise to stay true and give you all of me Whether hes locked down or on the grind Or whether hes out of work or at work on time You need to trust that man and respect that man And you get what you feel you deserve from that man and Cause I need somebody who will stand by me Through the good times and bad times who will always, always be my girl I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Oh...} All I care is bout being here for you And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} Cause all I need is you {Oh...} Cause all I need is you {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Cause all I need is you |
|||||
|
|
4:39 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
{Na-na-na-na-na}
Who you gonna trust, yeah {Whoa...} You could trust me, ha-ha-ha (Uh) I dont care about nothin else, my baby (To all the ladies in our lives, you heard) {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you (Strong independent women, come on, uh) {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Yeah, uh What you think gangstas dont cry, get hurt by lies Times you embarrass me, I swallow my pride Im tired of tellin you I got nothin to hide Im in the studio at night, you think Im out with the guys Every time I speak to you, you got somethin to say Accordin to you I must be crushin all day All Im askin you for is to be more trustin Im outta town all the time and dont accuse you of nothin Picture me creepin with a chick on tour When you love my sons as if they was yours I know at times you feel alone cause Im not home Thats why every few hours I pick up the phone And reassure you my love is more then a scene I adore you my wife, my Colombian queen I promise to never stray, Im honored every day To have a woman like you in the life of Jose, hey I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Yeah, how Im supposed to start this First and first you my queen goddess My moon, my earth, the wisdom to a n****s knowledge I swear to God, it amazes me how you stay in college And still manage to raise my baby boy when Im gone and Tourin, makin dollars, assumin that I love you, but regardless I feel its time I showed you, bless you with this ring Now thats somethin to hold you down till a n**** come back Me and my lady got history, shes worth it Deserves more then this cold world is givin me to share with her word And I dont care about nothin else except my girl {My girl} Not myself, no one else, just my girl {My girl} You bring life to my world, you give me strength to go on And face life even when it seems all hopes gone Labeled my wife, but you truly exceed the title You my future, my happiness, my heart, my idol I promise, girl, that I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Oh...} Cause all I need is you {I promise I wont stare} (Ha-ha) Cause all I need is you (This is goin out to you, you, you and you) {All I need, all I need, baby} Cause all I need is you {Oh...oh...} Yeah, uh To all the ladies out there if you love your man You need to hold your man, embrace your man And just grab his hand, repeat after me I promise to stay true and give you all of me Whether hes locked down or on the grind Or whether hes out of work or at work on time You need to trust that man and respect that man And you get what you feel you deserve from that man and Cause I need somebody who will stand by me Through the good times and bad times who will always, always be my girl I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Oh...} All I care is bout being here for you And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} Cause all I need is you {Oh...} Cause all I need is you {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Cause all I need is you |
|||||
|
|
4:39 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
{Na-na-na-na-na}
Who you gonna trust, yeah {Whoa...} You could trust me, ha-ha-ha (Uh) I dont care about nothin else, my baby (To all the ladies in our lives, you heard) {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you (Strong independent women, come on, uh) {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Yeah, uh What you think gangstas dont cry, get hurt by lies Times you embarrass me, I swallow my pride Im tired of tellin you I got nothin to hide Im in the studio at night, you think Im out with the guys Every time I speak to you, you got somethin to say Accordin to you I must be crushin all day All Im askin you for is to be more trustin Im outta town all the time and dont accuse you of nothin Picture me creepin with a chick on tour When you love my sons as if they was yours I know at times you feel alone cause Im not home Thats why every few hours I pick up the phone And reassure you my love is more then a scene I adore you my wife, my Colombian queen I promise to never stray, Im honored every day To have a woman like you in the life of Jose, hey I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Yeah, how Im supposed to start this First and first you my queen goddess My moon, my earth, the wisdom to a n****s knowledge I swear to God, it amazes me how you stay in college And still manage to raise my baby boy when Im gone and Tourin, makin dollars, assumin that I love you, but regardless I feel its time I showed you, bless you with this ring Now thats somethin to hold you down till a n**** come back Me and my lady got history, shes worth it Deserves more then this cold world is givin me to share with her word And I dont care about nothin else except my girl {My girl} Not myself, no one else, just my girl {My girl} You bring life to my world, you give me strength to go on And face life even when it seems all hopes gone Labeled my wife, but you truly exceed the title You my future, my happiness, my heart, my idol I promise, girl, that I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Oh...} Cause all I need is you {I promise I wont stare} (Ha-ha) Cause all I need is you (This is goin out to you, you, you and you) {All I need, all I need, baby} Cause all I need is you {Oh...oh...} Yeah, uh To all the ladies out there if you love your man You need to hold your man, embrace your man And just grab his hand, repeat after me I promise to stay true and give you all of me Whether hes locked down or on the grind Or whether hes out of work or at work on time You need to trust that man and respect that man And you get what you feel you deserve from that man and Cause I need somebody who will stand by me Through the good times and bad times who will always, always be my girl I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} All I care is bout being here for you {Oh...} And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} I dont care about nothin else, my baby {Oh...} All I care is bout being here for you And I wont stare at nobody else, my baby {Baby, I dont care} Cause all I need is you {Oh...} Cause all I need is you {Promise I wont stare} Cause all I need is you {All I need, all I need, baby} Cause all I need is you |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah,
It's time, baby It's time to speak the truth, maturity Huh, niggas gotta evolve to let niggas know the real Ya call yourself real, ya gotta start speaking about the real This is Joe Crack The Don, and this is what i'm bringin' to you uh, yo nowadays, I'm flirtin with uncertain death Lord I gotta be dying, coz after all this crying, how much more hurtin's left? When will the pain stop? This depression and anxiety is gonna make me show another side of me My niggas ride with me coz I'm the truth There's benefits to rolling with this clique, don't nobody fuck with you Still they label me a tyrant and a backstabber but study the facts of Crack, the shit don't add up I'm bringin opportunity to my community Probably the only rapper that cares but still you out to ruin me Who you foolin B? I'm for unity Latins and Blacks, could you fathom the strength we have of the two are attached Born together, roaded in life These uncle charm polititions ain't holdin us right How could the same nigga be 20 years in office when it's clear the only thing that's rising is unemployment, abortion, little kids having kids the school system is failing us, now ain't that some shit? While the rich keep gettin richer, the poor keep dying young, I can't hide it no more, the time has come (chorus) I was born in the ghetto, trembling, try'na stay alive Coz when you're born in the ghetto, No-one seems to hear you cry Brown skin, you know I love my bro-o-own skin Everyday I'm confronted with racism These motherfuckin coppers wanna bag us and have us shackled up in state prisons After all the taxes I pay, you would think when they stop us they would have something nicer to say than "GET THE FUCK OUT THE CAR! WHERE THE DRUGS AT? ALL THE JEWELRY YOU'RE WEARING, WHERE THE FUCKIN GUNS AT?" Once they search the car clean and find nothin, the same crooked cops try to act like they know us or something Laughin, tellin jokes by the thousands 2 seconds ago they tried to send us to the mountains Leave my son without a father, my wife without a husband the more I think about it, man it's just disgusting Stii=ll, we live amongst them, everybody wants out That's why we rap like we got silver spoons in our mouth Like we ain't grow up on welfare Nigga don't even go there, you probably wore Pro-Plares! We need to educate the youth, tell the seeds the truth Too much to share, the bare minimum will exceed the proof (chorus) I was born in the ghetto, trembling, try'na stay alive Coz when you're born in the ghetto, No-one seems to hear you cry Ooh, yeah So much pain Tryin hard to stay alive, stay alive Out in these streets, oooh Man sometimes in can get so tough Oh yes, yes it can Yes it can, yeah It can get so hard, so hard, so hard |
|||||
|
|
3:50 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah,
It's time, baby It's time to speak the truth, maturity Huh, niggas gotta evolve to let niggas know the real Ya call yourself real, ya gotta start speaking about the real This is Joe Crack The Don, and this is what i'm bringin' to you uh, yo nowadays, I'm flirtin with uncertain death Lord I gotta be dying, coz after all this crying, how much more hurtin's left? When will the pain stop? This depression and anxiety is gonna make me show another side of me My niggas ride with me coz I'm the truth There's benefits to rolling with this clique, don't nobody fuck with you Still they label me a tyrant and a backstabber but study the facts of Crack, the shit don't add up I'm bringin opportunity to my community Probably the only rapper that cares but still you out to ruin me Who you foolin B? I'm for unity Latins and Blacks, could you fathom the strength we have of the two are attached Born together, roaded in life These uncle charm polititions ain't holdin us right How could the same nigga be 20 years in office when it's clear the only thing that's rising is unemployment, abortion, little kids having kids the school system is failing us, now ain't that some shit? While the rich keep gettin richer, the poor keep dying young, I can't hide it no more, the time has come (chorus) I was born in the ghetto, trembling, try'na stay alive Coz when you're born in the ghetto, No-one seems to hear you cry Brown skin, you know I love my bro-o-own skin Everyday I'm confronted with racism These motherfuckin coppers wanna bag us and have us shackled up in state prisons After all the taxes I pay, you would think when they stop us they would have something nicer to say than "GET THE FUCK OUT THE CAR! WHERE THE DRUGS AT? ALL THE JEWELRY YOU'RE WEARING, WHERE THE FUCKIN GUNS AT?" Once they search the car clean and find nothin, the same crooked cops try to act like they know us or something Laughin, tellin jokes by the thousands 2 seconds ago they tried to send us to the mountains Leave my son without a father, my wife without a husband the more I think about it, man it's just disgusting Stii=ll, we live amongst them, everybody wants out That's why we rap like we got silver spoons in our mouth Like we ain't grow up on welfare Nigga don't even go there, you probably wore Pro-Plares! We need to educate the youth, tell the seeds the truth Too much to share, the bare minimum will exceed the proof (chorus) I was born in the ghetto, trembling, try'na stay alive Coz when you're born in the ghetto, No-one seems to hear you cry Ooh, yeah So much pain Tryin hard to stay alive, stay alive Out in these streets, oooh Man sometimes in can get so tough Oh yes, yes it can Yes it can, yeah It can get so hard, so hard, so hard |
|||||
|
|
3:50 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah,
It's time, baby It's time to speak the truth, maturity Huh, niggas gotta evolve to let niggas know the real Ya call yourself real, ya gotta start speaking about the real This is Joe Crack The Don, and this is what i'm bringin' to you uh, yo nowadays, I'm flirtin with uncertain death Lord I gotta be dying, coz after all this crying, how much more hurtin's left? When will the pain stop? This depression and anxiety is gonna make me show another side of me My niggas ride with me coz I'm the truth There's benefits to rolling with this clique, don't nobody fuck with you Still they label me a tyrant and a backstabber but study the facts of Crack, the shit don't add up I'm bringin opportunity to my community Probably the only rapper that cares but still you out to ruin me Who you foolin B? I'm for unity Latins and Blacks, could you fathom the strength we have of the two are attached Born together, roaded in life These uncle charm polititions ain't holdin us right How could the same nigga be 20 years in office when it's clear the only thing that's rising is unemployment, abortion, little kids having kids the school system is failing us, now ain't that some shit? While the rich keep gettin richer, the poor keep dying young, I can't hide it no more, the time has come (chorus) I was born in the ghetto, trembling, try'na stay alive Coz when you're born in the ghetto, No-one seems to hear you cry Brown skin, you know I love my bro-o-own skin Everyday I'm confronted with racism These motherfuckin coppers wanna bag us and have us shackled up in state prisons After all the taxes I pay, you would think when they stop us they would have something nicer to say than "GET THE FUCK OUT THE CAR! WHERE THE DRUGS AT? ALL THE JEWELRY YOU'RE WEARING, WHERE THE FUCKIN GUNS AT?" Once they search the car clean and find nothin, the same crooked cops try to act like they know us or something Laughin, tellin jokes by the thousands 2 seconds ago they tried to send us to the mountains Leave my son without a father, my wife without a husband the more I think about it, man it's just disgusting Stii=ll, we live amongst them, everybody wants out That's why we rap like we got silver spoons in our mouth Like we ain't grow up on welfare Nigga don't even go there, you probably wore Pro-Plares! We need to educate the youth, tell the seeds the truth Too much to share, the bare minimum will exceed the proof (chorus) I was born in the ghetto, trembling, try'na stay alive Coz when you're born in the ghetto, No-one seems to hear you cry Ooh, yeah So much pain Tryin hard to stay alive, stay alive Out in these streets, oooh Man sometimes in can get so tough Oh yes, yes it can Yes it can, yeah It can get so hard, so hard, so hard |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Excuse me while I sing to you I'm being real and that's the thing to do I'm just living and loving Smoking and fucking (Yeah uh) Out here on the grind, yeah (Alchemist this beat is stupid dope fresh) If I can't get no love then I can touch you (Shit is fly, throw back ya heard me) [Chorus] I'd rather touch you, yeah (We ridin' on these niggas come on) 'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Yeah, Terror Squad) I'd rather touch you, yeah (It's goin' down my niggas) (Stunna, Face, Joe Crack the Don) 'Stead I'd rather bust at you [Fat Joe] You motherfuckers must be crazy I been doin' this shit since the eighties Run up in yo crib, snatch ya baby baby-baby It's the kid still holdin' the crown Now that they give it I'm holdin' a pound And I'm lookin' for some bustas who be actin' like them niggas do dirt Come to find out they ain't put in no work An now my feelings is hurt Cause they decided that they wanted to murk But I'ma chase 'em to the end of the Earth Cause I'm a motherfuckin' rider You can see the pain in my face Got no problem exchangin' the hate They got me fightin' a case And if I blow will I face a fifteen And I'll probably do it all in the pen But yo I'm livin' with it Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride ha ha ha Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride You motherfuckers need to know that [Chorus] I'd rather touch you, yeah 'Stead I'd rather bust at you I'd rather |
|||||
|
|
4:37 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Excuse me while I sing to you I'm being real and that's the thing to do I'm just living and loving Smoking and fucking (Yeah uh) Out here on the grind, yeah (Alchemist this beat is stupid dope fresh) If I can't get no love then I can touch you (Shit is fly, throw back ya heard me) [Chorus] I'd rather touch you, yeah (We ridin' on these niggas come on) 'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Yeah, Terror Squad) I'd rather touch you, yeah (It's goin' down my niggas) (Stunna, Face, Joe Crack the Don) 'Stead I'd rather bust at you [Fat Joe] You motherfuckers must be crazy I been doin' this shit since the eighties Run up in yo crib, snatch ya baby baby-baby It's the kid still holdin' the crown Now that they give it I'm holdin' a pound And I'm lookin' for some bustas who be actin' like them niggas do dirt Come to find out they ain't put in no work An now my feelings is hurt Cause they decided that they wanted to murk But I'ma chase 'em to the end of the Earth Cause I'm a motherfuckin' rider You can see the pain in my face Got no problem exchangin' the hate They got me fightin' a case And if I blow will I face a fifteen And I'll probably do it all in the pen But yo I'm livin' with it Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride ha ha ha Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride You motherfuckers need to know that [Chorus] I'd rather touch you, yeah 'Stead I'd rather bust at you I'd rather |
|||||
|
|
4:37 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Excuse me while I sing to you I'm being real and that's the thing to do I'm just living and loving Smoking and fucking (Yeah uh) Out here on the grind, yeah (Alchemist this beat is stupid dope fresh) If I can't get no love then I can touch you (Shit is fly, throw back ya heard me) [Chorus] I'd rather touch you, yeah (We ridin' on these niggas come on) 'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Yeah, Terror Squad) I'd rather touch you, yeah (It's goin' down my niggas) (Stunna, Face, Joe Crack the Don) 'Stead I'd rather bust at you [Fat Joe] You motherfuckers must be crazy I been doin' this shit since the eighties Run up in yo crib, snatch ya baby baby-baby It's the kid still holdin' the crown Now that they give it I'm holdin' a pound And I'm lookin' for some bustas who be actin' like them niggas do dirt Come to find out they ain't put in no work An now my feelings is hurt Cause they decided that they wanted to murk But I'ma chase 'em to the end of the Earth Cause I'm a motherfuckin' rider You can see the pain in my face Got no problem exchangin' the hate They got me fightin' a case And if I blow will I face a fifteen And I'll probably do it all in the pen But yo I'm livin' with it Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride ha ha ha Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride You motherfuckers need to know that [Chorus] I'd rather touch you, yeah 'Stead I'd rather bust at you I'd rather |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Baby, if you wit' it, just clap yo' hands Stop playin' girl, back that ass up and Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and Freak that girl like you tryna have a baby cuz Everybody's out to fuck tonight The fine women, they out to fuck tonight My niggas, they down to fuck tonight Ladies, fellas, the won't stop players [Fat Joe] Came through the door, seen it before Hands touchin' the ceiling, booty streakin' the floor You ever felt good to the point you so sure that All the attention in the club is yours Got your hair done up, shades Christian Dior Leave us, trade a little happy on your Vickey draws Gettin' your dance on hard, who could wish for more And your crew's all but know it's a horse Got the Don all warm and it ain't the Hen' Feelin' like the Don woman, you could wrestle her chin Shorty, come a little closer while the record spin I wanna freak a little longer, can they play it again [Repeat 1] Yo, got my mind on my money, money on my mind And to let you know, you just as good as gold It's like we got our own little private party goin' on And the scene just changed into shores of San Juan It's so intimate, we so into it Such a tender thing, but fuck I'm innocent Grindin' so hard you gotta know what I'm thinkin' Laughin' cuz I'mma kidnap you for the weekend Now we at the pad about to crack a case Playin' the couch like Ceasar's, she feedin' me grapes Not for nuttin' hon, the sex is great But you know you got to go, I got checks to chase... next [Repeat 1] [Ginuwine] If you're w |
|||||
|
|
5:17 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Baby, if you wit' it, just clap yo' hands Stop playin' girl, back that ass up and Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and Freak that girl like you tryna have a baby cuz Everybody's out to fuck tonight The fine women, they out to fuck tonight My niggas, they down to fuck tonight Ladies, fellas, the won't stop players [Fat Joe] Came through the door, seen it before Hands touchin' the ceiling, booty streakin' the floor You ever felt good to the point you so sure that All the attention in the club is yours Got your hair done up, shades Christian Dior Leave us, trade a little happy on your Vickey draws Gettin' your dance on hard, who could wish for more And your crew's all but know it's a horse Got the Don all warm and it ain't the Hen' Feelin' like the Don woman, you could wrestle her chin Shorty, come a little closer while the record spin I wanna freak a little longer, can they play it again [Repeat 1] Yo, got my mind on my money, money on my mind And to let you know, you just as good as gold It's like we got our own little private party goin' on And the scene just changed into shores of San Juan It's so intimate, we so into it Such a tender thing, but fuck I'm innocent Grindin' so hard you gotta know what I'm thinkin' Laughin' cuz I'mma kidnap you for the weekend Now we at the pad about to crack a case Playin' the couch like Ceasar's, she feedin' me grapes Not for nuttin' hon, the sex is great But you know you got to go, I got checks to chase... next [Repeat 1] [Ginuwine] If you're w |
|||||
|
|
3:54 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Baby, if you wit' it, just clap yo' hands Stop playin' girl, back that ass up and Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and Freak that girl like you tryna have a baby cuz Everybody's out to fuck tonight The fine women, they out to fuck tonight My niggas, they down to fuck tonight Ladies, fellas, the won't stop players [Fat Joe] Came through the door, seen it before Hands touchin' the ceiling, booty streakin' the floor You ever felt good to the point you so sure that All the attention in the club is yours Got your hair done up, shades Christian Dior Leave us, trade a little happy on your Vickey draws Gettin' your dance on hard, who could wish for more And your crew's all but know it's a horse Got the Don all warm and it ain't the Hen' Feelin' like the Don woman, you could wrestle her chin Shorty, come a little closer while the record spin I wanna freak a little longer, can they play it again [Repeat 1] Yo, got my mind on my money, money on my mind And to let you know, you just as good as gold It's like we got our own little private party goin' on And the scene just changed into shores of San Juan It's so intimate, we so into it Such a tender thing, but fuck I'm innocent Grindin' so hard you gotta know what I'm thinkin' Laughin' cuz I'mma kidnap you for the weekend Now we at the pad about to crack a case Playin' the couch like Ceasar's, she feedin' me grapes Not for nuttin' hon, the sex is great But you know you got to go, I got checks to chase... next [Repeat 1] [Ginuwine] If you're w |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Ollie ollie oxen free! Like one, two, three Red light, green light, one, two, three Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes Pitch the ball I'ma smack that shit Yeah, ohhhhhh, going.. going Yeah yeah what up son? Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like.. Nah, I ain't got no bullets Yeah yeah yeah yeah Top two for five, three for five, we rollin! [Fat Joe] Now I'm in too deep Only sixteen already hold a name in the street Makin the fifth scream, rockin older niggas to sleep Make a fiend strip naked cuz he owed for a week Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died Young and not givin a fuck There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em shit outta luck I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw Stacks of money on the bed and the floor It wasn't long til I did what he did I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me I earned my spot, my whole team elected me [Chorus: children singing] Gangsta, gangsta I wanna be a gangsta My daddy was a gangsta Gangsta, gangsta I wanna be a gangsta My daddy was a gangsta [Fat Joe] Yeah, unh, yo, unh Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again-a |
|||||
|
|
3:54 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Ollie ollie oxen free! Like one, two, three Red light, green light, one, two, three Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes Pitch the ball I'ma smack that shit Yeah, ohhhhhh, going.. going Yeah yeah what up son? Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like.. Nah, I ain't got no bullets Yeah yeah yeah yeah Top two for five, three for five, we rollin! [Fat Joe] Now I'm in too deep Only sixteen already hold a name in the street Makin the fifth scream, rockin older niggas to sleep Make a fiend strip naked cuz he owed for a week Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died Young and not givin a fuck There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em shit outta luck I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw Stacks of money on the bed and the floor It wasn't long til I did what he did I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me I earned my spot, my whole team elected me [Chorus: children singing] Gangsta, gangsta I wanna be a gangsta My daddy was a gangsta Gangsta, gangsta I wanna be a gangsta My daddy was a gangsta [Fat Joe] Yeah, unh, yo, unh Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again-a |
|||||
|
|
3:54 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Ollie ollie oxen free! Like one, two, three Red light, green light, one, two, three Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes Pitch the ball I'ma smack that shit Yeah, ohhhhhh, going.. going Yeah yeah what up son? Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like.. Nah, I ain't got no bullets Yeah yeah yeah yeah Top two for five, three for five, we rollin! [Fat Joe] Now I'm in too deep Only sixteen already hold a name in the street Makin the fifth scream, rockin older niggas to sleep Make a fiend strip naked cuz he owed for a week Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died Young and not givin a fuck There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em shit outta luck I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw Stacks of money on the bed and the floor It wasn't long til I did what he did I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me I earned my spot, my whole team elected me [Chorus: children singing] Gangsta, gangsta I wanna be a gangsta My daddy was a gangsta Gangsta, gangsta I wanna be a gangsta My daddy was a gangsta [Fat Joe] Yeah, unh, yo, unh Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again-a |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah. Uhh. Joe crack the don!
Ton' Sunshine. Terror, uhh Terror squad, its our time! Uhh, yea, hand it ova Uh, yo, uh-huh, what, yea, uh... woo [Verse 1] Yea, mami jus like that bend down grab ya ankles, do it for crack Damn should be illegal how that ass so fat The way you shake yo shit make me wanna cop back Is it ya motion causing all this commotion? Forget niggaz you even got bitches approaching Who am I? I'm just a kid from the Bronx If you love hip-hop you might of heard my shit once Or maybe twice or like thirteen thousand times I'm sick of it myself I'm loving the shine Who else could it be but the squad's O.G? Be laid up Wit chicks that resemble ? Half black, Japanese n something Menages, orgies believe me its nothing The girls want tha facts got to feed 'em the lies Who else can have you swimming in wealth the blink of an eye? [Chorus] Big trucks, gee rides, we fly, twenty-fo' wont you sit in them tires Believe me its nothing G-4 ? Just wont mix with my ride keep a strap on my side Believe me its nothing Fast women, bad bitches, down hoes, hood rich, pitch up in Daddy's hooood Believe me its nothing Big trucks mean rides we fly t-squad our time Believe me is nothing [Verse 2] Drop from Harlem even, more for Brooklyn Still got my Name covering the walls in central Brooklyn Haters want me, they love to slut me Mad because my fat ass stay - living comfy Down in d-r on the landing strip When record sales get low we back to advancing bricks Jack-of-all-trades we do that too The only rapper get the Suge Knight effect when he come through When pun died, half of y'all cried The other half wanna See my demi |
|||||
|
|
4:06 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah. Uhh. Joe crack the don!
Ton' Sunshine. Terror, uhh Terror squad, its our time! Uhh, yea, hand it ova Uh, yo, uh-huh, what, yea, uh... woo [Verse 1] Yea, mami jus like that bend down grab ya ankles, do it for crack Damn should be illegal how that ass so fat The way you shake yo shit make me wanna cop back Is it ya motion causing all this commotion? Forget niggaz you even got bitches approaching Who am I? I'm just a kid from the Bronx If you love hip-hop you might of heard my shit once Or maybe twice or like thirteen thousand times I'm sick of it myself I'm loving the shine Who else could it be but the squad's O.G? Be laid up Wit chicks that resemble ? Half black, Japanese n something Menages, orgies believe me its nothing The girls want tha facts got to feed 'em the lies Who else can have you swimming in wealth the blink of an eye? [Chorus] Big trucks, gee rides, we fly, twenty-fo' wont you sit in them tires Believe me its nothing G-4 ? Just wont mix with my ride keep a strap on my side Believe me its nothing Fast women, bad bitches, down hoes, hood rich, pitch up in Daddy's hooood Believe me its nothing Big trucks mean rides we fly t-squad our time Believe me is nothing [Verse 2] Drop from Harlem even, more for Brooklyn Still got my Name covering the walls in central Brooklyn Haters want me, they love to slut me Mad because my fat ass stay - living comfy Down in d-r on the landing strip When record sales get low we back to advancing bricks Jack-of-all-trades we do that too The only rapper get the Suge Knight effect when he come through When pun died, half of y'all cried The other half wanna See my demi |
|||||
|
|
4:06 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah. Uhh. Joe crack the don!
Ton' Sunshine. Terror, uhh Terror squad, its our time! Uhh, yea, hand it ova Uh, yo, uh-huh, what, yea, uh... woo [Verse 1] Yea, mami jus like that bend down grab ya ankles, do it for crack Damn should be illegal how that ass so fat The way you shake yo shit make me wanna cop back Is it ya motion causing all this commotion? Forget niggaz you even got bitches approaching Who am I? I'm just a kid from the Bronx If you love hip-hop you might of heard my shit once Or maybe twice or like thirteen thousand times I'm sick of it myself I'm loving the shine Who else could it be but the squad's O.G? Be laid up Wit chicks that resemble ? Half black, Japanese n something Menages, orgies believe me its nothing The girls want tha facts got to feed 'em the lies Who else can have you swimming in wealth the blink of an eye? [Chorus] Big trucks, gee rides, we fly, twenty-fo' wont you sit in them tires Believe me its nothing G-4 ? Just wont mix with my ride keep a strap on my side Believe me its nothing Fast women, bad bitches, down hoes, hood rich, pitch up in Daddy's hooood Believe me its nothing Big trucks mean rides we fly t-squad our time Believe me is nothing [Verse 2] Drop from Harlem even, more for Brooklyn Still got my Name covering the walls in central Brooklyn Haters want me, they love to slut me Mad because my fat ass stay - living comfy Down in d-r on the landing strip When record sales get low we back to advancing bricks Jack-of-all-trades we do that too The only rapper get the Suge Knight effect when he come through When pun died, half of y'all cried The other half wanna See my demi |
|||||
|
|
- |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah, uh, yeah, Loyalty, haha She was sixteen maybe seventeen, uh Who you gonna trust? And Life Goes On (2002) The timin ain't me, it's like, please goin through wrong Speak the truth, haha, speak the truth, yeah, yo, yo [Fat Joe] She was only sixteen, when I met her I was playin the corner Had to scream one of her niggas, like get up off her She was a diamond in the rough, real neighborhood jewel You would never see her out, 'less she comin from school At first we started out like sisters and brothers 'Till we finally let it out, and started kissin and huggin And your moms always dissin me, tryin to get rid a me I guess she figured out, I had taken your virginity She was right, sexin all day When they wouldn't let me in, we be playin the hallway Talkin all day, bout the stupidest shit Like if we got rich, what would we do with our chips? And who was our favorite rappers, it was Nas at the time We would memorize every single bar of his rhymes Summertime, kids is playin in the park I might just ride by, let 'em sprinkle the truck And Life Goes On [Chorus] She was sixteen, maybe seventeen I was eighteen, nineteen maybe a little bit more (was she a little more), haha .. Yeah, huh, but Life Goes On She was sixteen, maybe seventeen I was eighteen, nineteen maybe a little bit more hahahaha, yeah, yeah, woof, uh, yo But Life Goes On [Fat Joe] This shit got deeper, you was havin my seed I couldn't wait to see this little nigga look like me Sure enough a little fat guy named D'Ryan Kept us up all night, always bitchin and cryin I was still slingin fast, the "Flow Joe" came out Things |
|||||
|
|
4:53 |
|
||
|
from Fat Joe - Loyalty (2002)
Yeah, uh, yeah, Loyalty, haha She was sixteen maybe seventeen, uh Who you gonna trust? And Life Goes On (2002) The timin ain't me, it's like, please goin through wrong Speak the truth, haha, speak the truth, yeah, yo, yo [Fat Joe] She was only sixteen, when I met her I was playin the corner Had to scream one of her niggas, like get up off her She was a diamond in the rough, real neighborhood jewel You would never see her out, 'less she comin from school At first we started out like sisters and brothers 'Till we finally let it out, and started kissin and huggin And your moms always dissin me, tryin to get rid a me I guess she figured out, I had taken your virginity She was right, sexin all day When they wouldn't let me in, we be playin the hallway Talkin all day, bout the stupidest shit Like if we got rich, what would we do with our chips? And who was our favorite rappers, it was Nas at the time We would memorize every single bar of his rhymes Summertime, kids is playin in the park I might just ride by, let 'em sprinkle the truck And Life Goes On [Chorus] She was sixteen, maybe seventeen I was eighteen, nineteen maybe a little bit more (was she a little more), haha .. Yeah, huh, but Life Goes On She was sixteen, maybe seventeen I was eighteen, nineteen maybe a little bit more hahahaha, yeah, yeah, woof, uh, yo But Life Goes On [Fat Joe] This shit got deeper, you was havin my seed I couldn't wait to see this little nigga look like me Sure enough a little fat guy named D'Ryan Kept us up all night, always bitchin and cryin I was still slingin fast, the "Flow Joe" came out Things |
|||||
|
