[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 C'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 cuz 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-C, 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!" Cuz 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)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
