Misery Needs Company lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. 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 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)

The Hidden Hand lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. Terror Squad)

[Fat Joe]

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

[Cuban Link]

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

[Big Punisher]

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

[Triple Seis]

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

[Armaggedon]

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

[Prospect]

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

My Prerogative lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. 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]

Good Times lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. Krayzie Bone, Layzie Bone)

[Layzie Bone: Intro]

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):]

[Krayzie Bone:]

Good times, good times (we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration)

[Layzie Bone:]

We could take some stress off our chest

[Fat Joe]

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 wanna 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, cuz the good ain't far

This is the stuff dreams are made of - shoot for the stars

The good times

[Chorus (2x):]

[Krayzie Bone:]

Good times, good times

(we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration)

[Layzie Bone: overlappin' Krayzie]

We could take some stress off our chest

[Krayzie Bone:]

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):]

[Krayzie Bone:]

Good times, good times

(we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration)

[Layzie Bone: overlappin' Krayzie]

We could take some stress off our chest

[Krayzie Bone:]

Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration

we havin' a big celebration

Celebration, (bration) celebration

we havin a big celebration, we havin a celebration

[Fat Joe]

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):]

[Krayzie Bone:]

Good times, good times

(we can have a good time..we havin' a big celebration)

[Layzie Bone: overlappin' Krayzie]

We could take some stress off our chest

[Krayzie Bone:]

Big Celebration, we havin' a big celebration

we havin' a big celebration

Celebration (bration), celebration,

big celebration, we havin a celebration

Terror Squadians lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. Terror Squad)

[Fat Joe]

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

[Prospect]

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

[Chorus: Triple Seis]

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!)

[Cuban Link]

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

[Triple Seis]

So, come on if you gon' ride with us, live niggas

Hop with us, quick to try to triple five figures

[Big Punisher]

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

[Chorus 2X]

[Armageddon]

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

[Chorus]

Jealous One's Envy (1995)

• Bronx Tale
• Success
• Envy
• Gangbanging Interlude
• Fat Joe's In Town
• Part Deux
• King NY
• The Shit Is Real (DJ Premier Remix)
• Fat Joe's Way
• Respect Mine
• Watch Out
• Say Word
• Success (DJ Premier Remix)
• Dedication
• Bronx Keeps Creating It 

Bronx Tale lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. KRS-One)

[Intro: KRS-One]

Music please

Yes, welcome to Jealous One's Envy

We'd like to thank you in advance for purchasing this product

It is a Relativity Records product, artist Fat Joe

My name is KRS-One

And of course we're gonna bring THE noise

Cause we can never be toys

[Verse One: KRS-One, Fat Joe]

Yes I am the ultimate, uttering ultimatum's for the fun of it

It appears to me you don't know who you fuckin with

You can't see this with bifocals cause you're local

Can't hang with my vocals, better you fuck with Sonny Bono

Or Yoko Ono, but KRS oh NO NO

You might think you a ROTC but I don't give a fuck though

I'm rolling hard like God for the squad black

Packin them poppers bitch, where that money be at?

Aiyyo I be the show stopper, as I shine like gold

Other rappers dull like copper, the certified fake nigga dropper

Which borough, is the thorough

I know, do you know, let me know I'm sayin though

The coke connector, sweating leather with reflectors

Don't get caught up in my sector, or I'ma haveta inject ya

with a slab of this lyrical dope shit

Fake MC's and wannabe's best to quote this

Fat Joe the true and living will prevail

Kingpin like Sonny up in Bronx Tale

Will I fail? I doubt it

I'm the nigga catchin bodies, while other niggaz fantasize about it

True indeed, behind my back MC's claim they can serve me

In my face they screaming "We're not worthy!"

Youse a has been, actually you ain't been

I be touring, while you be home taping

So what punk, you could battle in a second

Frankly the bottom line, is where's your hit record

You claim I'm jocking, claim I'm on your dick, where's your witnesses?

If I'm on your dick my name has got to be syphillis

[Chorus:]

"If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck" - [Jeru]

"Up up up and away cuz I don't play clown" - [Kool G Rap]

"If you're feeling lucky duck, then press your luck" - [Jeru]

"Buck buck buck take that witcha on the way down" - [Kool G Rap]

[Verse Two: Fat Joe]

As we proceed to lock it down, don't get it fucked up

We be the kings of the Boogie Down

All we do is spark izm and get cash

Tortuing MC's like that warden up in Alcatraz (bo! bo! bo! bo!)

It's Fat Joe, yo you know my steelo

Get so much love, I'm payin sixteen on a kilo

Sendin niggaz outta town, still got control of the Boogie Down

Now how the fuck you sound? (Yeahhh)

Ain't no army that could harm me or bomb me

c'mon G you clowns ain't got a fucking thing on me

I'm flashy like white linen (tell em)

Your rap is under pressure like two outs tied score in the ninth inning

I'm down with Kris and ain't no stopping me

I'm out for Bronx and Monopoly with chicks on top of me

It's My Philosophy, but for now it's in the corridor

Slappin caps like a ball hittin hard to my laborator

These motherfuckers don't want it

(Word to mother Joe, these niggaz don't want it!)

[Chorus]

[Verse Three: KRS-One]

Merrrcy, you wanna serve me but you ain't worthy

My style is too curvy, what you tellin me

But your flimsy ass will go home after the battle and find I'm your boss

With KRS-One up in your memory

I know your kind, you rap write

You're Mr. John Gotti the Don, but you're just another bwotty mon

Telecro bwotty mon, how you collect

Rap magazine dating back to, Tougher than Leather

The only reason you got, such an extensive rap collection

Cuz most of your rap mags are all stuck together

Watch what you sayin, watch what you say

When your skull gets cracked, whatcha gonna say crackhead?

Your file is dead, kneel to the rap God in bed

Fore I slap you way Back in the Dayz like Ahmad

Don't get me fed up, or vexed up, cuz you'll get set up

My crew don't let up, I be dead up in this piece (tell em)

Recognize it's BlastMaster KRS-One

For ten years, Fat Joe, chillin on the East

Success lyrics - Fat Joe

Yeah

This joint right here is goin out to everybody gettin money

I mean the real CREAM

All up and down the East and West coast

Check it [echoes]

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

Hustlin is the key to success

Money is the key to sex

The life is gettin cash, drinkin Mo', gettin blessed

The games people play

The names people slay

It's just another ordinary day

[Verse One]

One's for the cash, two's for every blunt's ash

Three's for all the 40 brews goin to cruise the bowel

Four's for the drugs, sex, and power

I be the top dolla scala, rockin gold collars

While you tryin to sip the juice, I'm takin swallows

Step into my zone and get blown, my ways are internationally known

Yeah, in case you haven't heard the rep

Have an appetite for beef and get, hand fed led

Rapid-fire echoes through your, vicinity

Why you messin with this nigga from Trinity?

For every shell that fell, there's a story to tell

But it's a fine line between grapevines and pines

Knahmean? There's no room for snitches and loud bitches

But it's always room for riches and deep ditches

That's how it be in this everlasting game

Declaring war on cocks, and leavin chumps slain

So maintain, and put the frontin to a rest

Or today'll be the grand openin of your chest

Success, triple beam, knahmean?

Dolla dolla bill

[Chorus]

[Verse Two]

The streets are full of vengeance, and it's expensive

If you don't organize your words right in your sentence

Twelve gauge holes take souls and lives are lost

Who said an arm and a leg was a high cost to toss?

Things are done different, in my zip code

Hollow tips implode, dum-dums explode

Now your crew is screamin like they see demons when I reload

You can't comprehend, act like you want it for clarity

I'm pushin wigs, handin out jigs like charity

You best to get your groove on, or get moved on

Or play the hot steppa, and die with your shoes on

I collects ass and cash

While my crew consumes liquor and hash, and keep the stash

Whether, hustlin or dustin we get busy with ours

T.S., T.A.T., respect for miles

The Bronx is the turf, South is the area

Bring ten, bring twenty, the more guns the merrier

Nobody's bad as me, no cops nabbin me

Front if you dare and I'll change your whole anatomy

For real... uh!

[Chorus - repeat to fade]

Envy lyrics - Fat Joe

Yo This is going out to all my peeps locked down

Charlie Rock, LD

All my peeps who passed away, yeah

[Verse 1:]

I remember when we used to chill on a hill

When Forest Projects, used to be Godsville

Brothers was wilin, others was cool

Some hit the island, some smoked fools

Me I chose the life of crime since day one

13 years old, already trying to cop a gun

I never understood why my pops would beat me

No matter what I did, yo he'd still mistreat me

That's why I never listened to a thing he said

And I wasn't just mad when I used to wish him dead

Instead, me and Ma Dukes kept tight

Promised that one day everything would be alright

14 Years old, cutting mad classes

Puffing on a bone, breaking car glasses

Nothing but dreams of cream on my mind

Shook motherfuckers on the block droppin dime

Everybody knew Joey Crack represented

And if I told then I'd take your life

Hey Yo, I meant it

That's the way it goes

When you deal with the real fake jacks

And get your cap peeled

[CHORUS:]

Hey Joey, let's just get this money

Brothas just be wilin

Hey Joey, you can't trust nobody

Brothas they been triflin

[Verse 2:]

Yeah Momma never said life would be so hard

sometimes i find myself alone just praying to god

Hoping that today won't be the last

I mean, Just the other day this kid I knew got blasted

(Say Word) Word, it wasn't over no cash.

It was over some broad who liked to auction off the ass

He was a cool kid, although we lost him big

If he was a real nigga, then he wouldn't have got did

Life's trife, and then you die

Nobody dies of old age, but in the hands of another guy

That's why I keeps an alibi

Juliani wants to see a brother fry

So I maintain to keep my mind peace focused

Keep the gat there in case a nigga wanna smoke this

Times are difficult on the streets of New York

It's kinda hard trying to hope for and not get caught

Blue eyes is on my back with intentions of arresting me

But they won't get the best of me

Cause riches are my destiny

[CHORUS]

[Verse 3:]

No one expected me to blow like this

What was once hand me downs

Is now the best of ?atanovich?

Yukon Jeeps creepin through the streets

Catching the eye of every big booty cheek freak

Daten rims so shiny you can see your reflection

Green plush interior, under the seat

The heat for protection

Momma look at me now

Got a house in Long Isle for my spouse and my child

D.E.L. condos for first impression hoes

No more holes in my gibros

Strictly denim and clothes

Airwaves blasting my latest single

All up in the Mecca Club

Making Lucci while I mingle

Jingle jewels in the face of past enemies

Eat your heart out son, you never was a friend to me

[CHORUS]

Big Joe, South Bronx

Represeeeeeent

Gangbanging Interlude lyrics - Fat Joe

You're standing right now with nine delegates from 100 gangs

And there's over a hundred more

That's 20,000 hardcore members

40,000, counting affiliates

And 20,000 more, not organized, but ready to fight: 60,000 soldiers!

Now, there ain't but 20,000 police in the whole town. Can you dig it?

Fat Joe's In Town lyrics - Fat Joe

[DJ cuts "Guess who's back?"]

[Fat Joe]

Yeah..

The Fat Gangsta..

Here comes the nigga from the East

who just been crowned for most hated by police

The public enemy, rapper at large

who's known throughout the industry for pullin niggaz cards

You know the situation, Zulu Nation

Never forget the Bronx because the Bronx the foundation

Fat Joe, a.k.a. Joey Crack

Niggaz be like he's fat, bitches be like he's all that

Motherfuckers know my rep, I never fronted

Niggaz be talkin mad shit, but they don't want it

It's the realer MC, the drug dealer MC

If a nigga fake jax, I'm gonna kill a MC

Yeah, you can't handle the truth

Fuck around and get thrown off the project roof

Mad lives have been lost and forgotten

Niggaz better watch they back, the Big Apple's gone rotten

Microphone check, one two one two

Shouts to the East and the West coast crew

Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true

{"That's all I ask of you.."}

When I step in the jam all eyes are on me

Sold out crowds, with curiosity

Everybody wants to know, could the man still flip it?

Microphone gifted, unrealistic

Comin with the bomb bass for the underground heads

Flex got the most, Serge got the landspread

Keepin shit real, niggaz know the deal

Just through trial and comin down on appeal

Microphone Joe I own it, bitches wanna bone it

Blowin out the tweeters in your musical component

It's your man Fat Joe, oh, is that so?

You remember me from, "You know ya got to Flow"

One time for your mind off the top of a dome

Never leave for home without the motherfuckin chrome

Word to Tone, Big Daddy, I know he's chillin

Peace to all the villains out of state makin millions cause ah

Microphone check, one two one two

Shouts to the East and the West coast crew

Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true

{"That's all I ask of you.."}

Microphone check, one two one two

Shouts to the East and the West coast crew

Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true

{"That's all I ask of you.."}

From the Bronx to Queensbridge, on back to Redhook

Never lost a gram on any eighth that I cooked

Fat Joe, army fatigue and black chuckers

Hardcore lyrics to all my real motherfuckers

I'm tryin to see cream, in the millions, retire

and go play golf with Russell Simmons

That's the type of mission that I'm on

Aiyyo my word is bond, I keep a army just as deep as Farrakhan

You.. can't.. deal with the man

who be holdin down the fort with the gauge in his hand

I know you love the way I grab the mic and spark it

You hookers'll NEVER get your hands inside my pockets

Microphone check, one two one two

Shouts to the East and the West coast crew

Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true

{"That's all I ask of you.."}

Microphone check, one two one two

Shouts to the East and the West coast crew

Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true

{"That's all I ask of you.."}

{"Everybody knows Fat Joe's in town.."}

Part Deux lyrics - Fat Joe

How many emcees must get dissed?

How many motherfuckin mics I got to rip?

Til you are considerate, illegitimate, rap motherfuckers stop talkin your shit!!

Yeah Fat Joe, Jealous One's Envy

Steppin to the jam niggaz actin all friendly

Smilin in my face, and all the whiles they wanna

take my fuckin place, them backstabbers, them backstabbers

I got some shit for your whole damn crew

How the fuck you gon' face a Mac-11 with a twenty-two?

And then deliver, I'll shake your shiver

and shatter your bones, the modern day Al Capone

Step into my zone and get blown

He who claims to wear the crown'll get the throne, check it

There's many emcees in this world of rap

But not too many emcees can fuck with Joey Crack

In fact, yo, I be the realest you know

With the illest of flows, bustin caps at po-po's

[Chorus:]

"You gotta flow Joe!" All these niggaz know the time

when I come through I shine with these genuine rhymes

"Let em know Joe!" What you mean they don't know?

I'm representin right now like I represented befo'

"You gotta flow Joe!" All these niggaz know the time

when I come through I shine with these genuine rhymes

"Let em know Joe!" What you mean they don't know?

What you mean they don't know? What you mean they don't know?

Many thought it couldn't happen, Joe was never rappin

He was always gettin loot off the crack and

fuckin with them heavyweights, who had shit sewn in every state

The very sight'll make the average man defecate

Livin the life of stock, bonds and cars, word bond

When I be gone I'll be worshipped like ?Nicky Barnes?

It's on, you don't want no confrontation

Killer communication, I suffer from multiple lacerations

Take a look at Joey Gambino

Spilled your chips in the casinos while feastin on shrimp scallapino

Niggaz don't want it, word to mother

I be that catchin body ese that'll leave that ass six feet under

Rappers wonder, where I been since _The Real_

I been plannin my strategy for the next kill

Ninety-five for the real live

Only the strong survive, that's why I pack a four-five

We got, all these actors playin characters and killers

Wannabe hammer cockers, but, shit is realer than they think

Fuck around and get them clothes ?rentin?

Many believe Fat Joe will be the cause of armaggedeon

[Chorus 2X]

"You gotta flow Joe!"

King NY lyrics - Fat Joe

[Frank White:]

Ok, from here on, nothing goes down unless I'm involved

No blackjack no dope deals, no nothing

A nickel bag gets sold in the park, I want in

You guys got fat while everybody starved on the street

It's my turn

[Artie Clay:]

You think you're gonna live long enough to spend that money, you fucking hump?

[Three Gunshots]

[Frank White:]

If any of you are tired of getting ripped off by guys like that... You come with me. I'm at the Plaza Hotel

You're welcome. You're all welcome!

The Shit Is Real (DJ Premier Remix) lyrics - Fat Joe

Yeah

This is goin' out ... to all the live motherfuckers, knowhatumsayin'

All the real niggaz, Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, California

La Perla, Puerto Rico, whatever the fuck you're from, youknowhatumsayin'

Yeah

[Verse One:]

This story takes place, back in the South Bronx

Where at the age of fourteen I was ready to knockin' off punks (yeah!)

And suckers were scared to death

Every time I walked by I hit them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..)

See, I just didn't give a fuck

And if you had a seed skin, I let the bomba you was getting stuck (word!)

That was the way it was

One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cous

See, something was fucked up back then

No matter what the fuck I did, I never had no ends

And my moms was on walfare

Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never there

So what the fuck was I had to do

When sick and tired to bein' the bummiest nigga out the crew

I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash!

I see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fast

Gimme your motherfucking loot, popi

I'm goin' to get paid and can't a damn thing stop me

See, I'm tired of this porshit

And who the cops? Well they can suck my motherfuckin' dick!

Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass

That's why I came glad when I heard somebody swooped that ass [gunshot]

Just to let ya know how I feel, word'em up

The fuckin' shit is real

[Chorus: background cuts "Down on the real"]

Aiyyo its real

Aiyyo the shit is real

The fuckin shit is real

Aiyyo its real

[Verse Two:]

Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene

I'm makin' mad dupe, gettin' paid off the dope fiends (word)

?Deep in shit? the checkin order,

and my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughter

See everybody knew in town that Joe and Tone had shit locked down

And a nigga wouldn't test me

It seems like every other day the fucking cops arrest me (yea!)

But the shit would never stick

I make one phone call and he'll be out by quick

Cause uncle Tan had my back

And now niggaz gettin' jealous cause they know I'm livin' fat

Talkin shit around the way and over block

But never in my face cause they knew I'd clap the glock

And my crew is mad deep

I'm punchin crazy puerto rican, so why yo don't sleep (word!)

And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal, check it out

The fucking shit is real

[Chorus]

[Verse Three:]

Let me let ya know why I made this song (why!?)

Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond

I'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggaz

Sayin' that they're catchin' bodies when they never pulled a trigga

I know ya style, I've seen it before

You wearin' army suit, now you think you're hardcore

Drinkin on your 40's, smokin on your blunts

Then afford a chainsaw, yo there ho fronts ,yeah

You fakin' the funk, kid

And you'd be ?kidnapped? the ass if you ever did a fucking bid

It's time to separate the real from the phony

The name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know me

I come from crypt with that ruff shit

Nowadays I can't believe the ?bull/boo? rappers come up with

And all y'all bitch ass niggaz know the deal, check it out

The fuckin shit is real

[Chorus]

[Outro:]

Word up!

I wanna say peace to my peeps, the Beatnuts

Messengers Of Funk, strictly Roots

My man Four Flex, Zulu Nation

Jazzy J in the house

Diamond D, the whole Diggin' In The Crates crew

And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana

Aiyo, I'm out, word is bond

The shit is real

[Premier cuts "Fat Joe's in town"]

Fat Joe's Way lyrics - Fat Joe

Oye Joe, este Joe

Estos maricones están fronteando bro (raitrú, raitrú)

No es que, es que yo no ha rompi’o uno de esto cara e’ [?], uno de esto tipo que creen que rapea

Y tienen jugo, guillando carros rentados y hablando mierda en disco como si ellos matan gente

Nunca son dueños del punto ni na’ fumando hierba, endroga’os, endeca’o, mira a mi mai’ que ellos no quieren el feo conmigo, me ven y se ponen nervioso

¡Ay Joe! ¿Cómo como esta’? ¿Cómo esta’? Nunca quieren mi feo conmigo, por que saben que yo mato a cualquiera que quiere mi feo

Puede ser negro, hispano, blanco lo que sea, boricua no, yo no lo mato

(Oye Joe, es Joe, el otro día yo conte uno en la cara a un maricón ese ahí)

Lo metí un par de tiro en la fucking cabeza

(Nos vamos ya, vamonos)

Respect Mine lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. Raekwon the Chef)

[Raekwon the Chef]

Yo whassup kid? How you, yeah

Straight up and down

This is the Chef comin out of Wu-Tang Clan

Representin Shaolin, to the fullest son!

I mean I'm here right now with my nigga, Fat Ji-doe

representin the Boogie Down, and the rest of the tri-borough

So what we gonna do right here son

Aiyyo matter fact son, I'm tired of these niggaz man!

Word up!

[Fat Joe]

Hey yo it's total devestation, for any MC that poses

I paint the town red with clips and dum-dums and bloodshed

The Fat MC, from the B-X

Vicious like a T-Rex, who slips into a three-X

Rappers fuck up, and end up, in the obituary

Don't know the meaning of real, check the dictionary

I got no time for conversation

Makin MC's run for the border like the immigration

A Puerto Rican villain who be dealin and illin for nothin

You ain't a playa, you just BLUFFIN

Point blank, we can even do this with gats and shanks

It's your selection

I can become President, without elections

I got mad connections, Fat Joe, the rap wizard

Brainstorms come in swarms, get lost in the blizzard

Word to mother I take your life

Sodomize your daughter, and make a widow out your wife

It's the relentless, nobody can check this

Fat Joe, you know The Yung and Resless respect this

.. to all the fake MC's

[Raekwon the Chef]

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

[Fat Joe]

Yo who gets wrecked on the spot? You get wrecked on the spot

I got this whole rap shit locked

Many MC's perpetrated, and gladiated

I'm number one so yo they hate it

Listen here suckers, you don't wanna meet the chuckers

It's the same motherfucker who said fuck the ruckus

Back in ninety-three, when everything was fine and dandy

I was the nigga puttin razors in your kids candy

Mad connivin, it don't get any worser

Best reverse them thoughts DISPERSE

Even if you get loud and curse

you don't put any fear in my heart

Don't even start, you get torn apart

Fat Joe, livin the life

Yo I get trife, and do a number on that ass

with the butcher knife - slice after slice, yea

Causin more destructional horror, than the AntiChrist

Niggaz know the motherfuckin time

Joe represents B-Lawn, respect mine

[Raekwon the Chef]

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Nigga respect mine, or anger the tec-9

Ch-chk-BLAOW! Move from the gate now

Watch Out lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. Armaggedon, Big Punisher, Keith Nut)

[Fat Joe]

Yeah!!

Straight out the heroin infested streets of the Bronx

Home of corrupt cops

Where niggaz get they motherfuckin wigs pushed back

even if they don't fake jax

Fat Joe, bringin forth the illest motherfuckers

in this whole rap game

Hey yo Armageddon, let these motherfuckers know

[Armageddon]

You look, I look, you invite it, I took

I forever wearin it, you know stone cold crook

What's truth, what's lie? Who's people, who spy?

It's life and death, choose live or die

Ultimates who made em why do we even exist?

When we die is there heaven or is it total blackness?

For any touch there's a feeling

Touch and y'all felt

We can exchange shots, until our chambers melt

There's mad tension in the air (mad tension in the air)

over one man's stare, you wanna dare, yo Crack

Eject the Czech from the glove compartment

Lay out the lead spray, and flame him up like arson

It's dangerous business

Opposites, these strangers be bendin opposites

So put your face in mine, best brace your spine

Cause opposites may attract, but they don't combine

My impact so fat, you feel your vertabrates grind

Now delayed second thoughts run through your mind

When my slugs connect, and strike your major arteries

When my fists connect, they causin major injuries

What you know Junior? You not evil

[Fat Joe]

Uhh, the South Bronx is the wrong place to visit

I don't know an MC who has enough balls to diss it

Whether rain or shine, we be bustin out nines

Hey yo Punisher, hit em with that ill type rhyme

[Big Punisher]

Yo, I cause a bloody bath to make my buddies laugh and gig'

My nutty wrath'll live as long as I'm a nasty kid

I blast a pig and slit his throat just for ? L

My skills {undecipherable} puffin boom in Hell

I doom the world like I was God and throw my gun away

Then snatch the moon out the sky, and blow the sun away

Me and my brothers play hardball

Strictly hardcore, lyrics til I'm finished breakin God's laws

My job's raw but I gotta do it - I'm feelin high then buddhaed

so you might get shot and lose a lot of fluid

The spot I blew it at an early age, ever since the curly braids

I would earn a wage with the thirty gauge

There's dirty ways to get paid if you got the balls

Just load the glock and cause the hardest cop to drop his drawers

Don't stop or pause, let the shotty go up his butt

to finish up, punchin body blows and uppercuts

[Fat Joe]

The South Bronx is the wrong place to visit

I don't know an MC who has enough balls to diss it

Whether rain or shine, we be bustin out nines

Hey yo Keith Nut, hit em with that ill type rhyme

[Keith Nut]

Yo, I cause damage, rap's redhanded bandit

Well I'll be god damnit, I kick ass like I'm yo' parents

Prepare for the slaughter when my brain is out of order

Got kicked out my church cause I got caught fuckin my preacher's daughter

Menace like Dennis on the M.I.C.

You best run son, I'm sendin emcees up shit's creek

So don't sleep, cause I creep, on New York streets

like I'm a big fat dick, wack emcees is ass-cheeks

Yo, I'm that nigga that'll kidnap yo' kids

Take em home, fuck em good, then send em back to you in bandages

You lose, cause I got, the ill street, and still keep

the toast close, and rep-a, resent-a, the East coast

So watch your back black, Bronx niggaz don't play

If you ever fake jax, I'll slit yo' throat like O.J.

[Fat Joe]

Yeah, that's my motherfuckin crew

Straight out the South Bronx

The livest motherfuckin corners of the Bronx

Keepin in realer, my motherfuckin nigga Keith Nut

Armageddon the Reddin

My nigga Big Dog Punisher

Straight out the Full Eclipse Camp

All you motherfuckers know the times, yeah

Watch your motherfuckin back

Blow out the back of your domepiece

D.I.T.C. forever motherfucker..

Say Word lyrics - Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]

Yeah, don't get it fucked up

This shit is realer than you think

Goin out to all them niggaz gettin cream

Drivin them beemers, them NSX's, them Lexus

All up in the clubs, buyin out the bars and shit

Uhh, money man in the house

Yeah, uhh..

Sparks are flashin from oowops blastin

A face gets bashed in for street crews clashin

Forever be forever great

It's the same shit tomorrow, eulogies of sorrow

Nonstop dramas, chumps think they hard smokin ?

It's all for steel my son, light as a tongue

The connections I got, I can lamp while you get done

Remember that, I dismember cats that act

A plain and simple fact is I react on impact

I'm plenty versatile, wild

Have you screamin like your head short a few vials

No more slabs and dollar cabs

Strictly Lexus Coupes with my troops feel the Alpine blast

Extra dark tints, for sticky events

Suspense makes the lead dispense

A baby oil massage when I'm feelin intense

Fly mami's with ki's taped to their bo-ties

Transportin through a airport securities

In cahoots with the San Juan authorities

Hated by majorities, loved by minorities

Uhh, the top dog, ??

Hazardous to your health like smog

[Chorus: Fat Joe (repeat 2X)]

(Say word) Word! Fuck what you heard

Shit is realer than you think, you niggaz must be slow

(Say word) Word! You best to act like you know

It's that real nigga shit from Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]

Business chatter's over shrimp and lobster platters

at Jimmy's Cafe, a glass of Peirier

Chick go for celly book a room at the Holiday

Inn, so I can get her and a friend

Menage a trois livin the life of a star

Overweight overpaid, pockets bustin out the seams

While you suckers havin limousine dreams

I got you all sized up, niggaz wise up

A Fat Beat truck'll be pickin all you guys up

Word to mother, shit is realer than you think

Hit my lady with diamond rings, gold links and minks

A nickel-plated trey-deuce, pearl handle is pink

So there's no muggin, all you niggaz must be buggin

The mac in the trunk's what I'm luggin

(Say word) GEYEAH, save it for the hook

Terror Squad's everywhere you look

Niggaz is vexed from all the hoes I took

From Trinity Ave all the ways down the Brook

[Chorus 1.5X]

[Fat Joe]

Yeah, goin out to my nigga Big Frank

1-7-0 Joe

Notorious One, yeah

Uncle Dan got my back

Charlie Rock L.D., up in Auburn, doin your time

Swear to God when you come home you'll be on nigga

Word is bond, Tony Montana, rest in peace

Success (DJ Premier Remix) lyrics - Fat Joe

Yeah

This joint right here is goin out to everybody gettin money

I mean the real CREAM

All up and down the East and West coast

Check it [echoes]

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

Hustlin is the key to success

Money is the key to sex

The life is gettin cash, drinkin Mo', gettin blessed

The games people play

The names people slay

It's just another ordinary day

[Verse One]

One's for the cash, two's for every blunt's ash

Three's for all the 40 brews goin to cruise the bowel

Four's for the drugs, sex, and power

I be the top dolla scala, rockin gold collars

While you tryin to sip the juice, I'm takin swallows

Step into my zone and get blown, my ways are internationally known

Yeah, in case you haven't heard the rep

Have an appetite for beef and get, hand fed led

Rapid-fire echoes through your, vicinity

Why you messin with this nigga from Trinity?

For every shell that fell, there's a story to tell

But it's a fine line between grapevines and pines

Knahmean? There's no room for snitches and loud bitches

But it's always room for riches and deep ditches

That's how it be in this everlasting game

Declaring war on cocks, and leavin chumps slain

So maintain, and put the frontin to a rest

Or today'll be the grand openin of your chest

Success, triple beam, knahmean?

Dolla dolla bill

[Chorus]

[Verse Two]

The streets are full of vengeance, and it's expensive

If you don't organize your words right in your sentence

Twelve gauge holes take souls and lives are lost

Who said an arm and a leg was a high cost to toss?

Things are done different, in my zip code

Hollow tips implode, dum-dums explode

Now your crew is screamin like they see demons when I reload

You can't comprehend, act like you want it for clarity

I'm pushin wigs, handin out jigs like charity

You best to get your groove on, or get moved on

Or play the hot steppa, and die with your shoes on

I collects ass and cash

While my crew consumes liquor and hash, and keep the stash

Whether, hustlin or dustin we get busy with ours

T.S., T.A.T., respect for miles

The Bronx is the turf, South is the area

Bring ten, bring twenty, the more guns the merrier

Nobody's bad as me, no cops nabbin me

Front if you dare and I'll change your whole anatomy

For real... uh!

[Chorus - repeat to fade]

Dedication lyrics - Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]

Whattup JuJu?

Uhh, whattup Beatnuts?

All them Dominicans in Corona

Bobbito Stretch, my nigga Funk Flex

This is the dedication

Yeah, Punisher Big Dog in the house

Full Eclipse crew

Rated R, my nigga Domingo

East New York representin, check it

Before I start, you know I got ta

pay homage and respect to Afrika Bambaata

Zulu Nation, for twenty years of work

Fat Joe wouldn't be on if it wasn't for Red Alert

Chris Lighty, I hope the rain never ends

Violator Records, now featuring The Twinz

Diamond D, for believing in me

Showbiz & A.G., the whole D.I.T.C.

My nigga G. Rap, forever got your back

whether it's with the macs or on a Primo track

Aiyyo Guru, you know I love you to death

Peace to Redman, Apache, Vinnie and Treach

Nevertheless, on the other side of town

there's my brother Lord Finesse gettin down for his crown

DJ Sirs, killin shit, word to God

Peace to Funkmaster Flex and the whole Flip Squad

Nice and Smooth, hey yo you know the situation

In case you haven't heard this jam is called the dedication

Yo it's the dedication

to all my niggaz one love

From the heart dedication

The dedication

to all my niggaz one love..

Hey yo fuck all the rest, I'm givin love to Wu-Tang

My nigga Chef and Big Meth, keep doin your thang

Tony Starks, Ason, and the rest of the crew

All my niggaz from Shaolin, you know how we do

James Todd Smith, for inspirin me

And all the funny-ass promoters who be hirin me

Knowledge Reigns Supreme, yo you know you're the best

Make sure you get that message that I left with West

Anyhows, on the other side of things

Big Nas, L.E.S., and Mobb Deep from Queens

Puff Daddy, get the millions kid

Nuff props and respect to Notorious B.I.G.

DJ Clue, you know I can't forget you

Doo Wop, S&S, oh yeah and Ron G too

Craig G, forever tryin to live like me

And of course the one and only DJ Kid Capri

Yo it's the dedication

to all my niggaz one love

From the heart dedication

The dedication

to all my niggaz one love

From the heart dedication

The dedication

to all my niggaz one love

From the heart dedication

The dedication

to all my niggaz one love..

Yeah, this joint right here, is dedicated

to all the real niggaz in hip-hop, uhh

What up Puba?

Whattup my nigga Kool Micski?

I ain't forget ya, L.A. love

Sadat X, Das EFX

Everybody else, representin the real in hip-hop

Word to mother

Little Heck, the whole TS crew

Big Power, Gizmo

And we out..

Bronx Keeps Creating It lyrics - Fat Joe

"Bronx keeps creating it.." - [KRS-One {cut and scratched}]

[Fat Joe] The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!

"Bronx keeps creating it.." - [KRS-One {cut and scratched}]

[Fat Joe] The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!

[Fat Joe]

Aiyyo I said yes yes y'all-n, to the beat all-n

Always been no peace so I never like to ball in

But I maintain and keep a grip on the mic

And say a punchline that'll get the crowd hyped, RIGHT

I never could determine who's the best

It was either KRS or that nigga Lord Finesse

But now I maintain that's with my own career

Joe gettin gold dough or somethin wrong in here

Cause everybody knows I got the skills to pay the bills

Plus I got the flow cause you know (The Hit is Real)

What? Top notch, I give you nuttin but the raw talent

But don't fake jax and make me have to get violent

You wouldn't like it when I flip the script

Cause when I flip the script, my glock can have an empty clip

Yeah, straight from the Ave of Trinity

I hate it when a juvenile tries to prove his masculinity

I got the whole vicinity locked down

Police hate it, look what they done to Tupac now

You make me wanna blast or somethin

But for now I keep infiltratin these crews that be frontin

And all these other MC's be hatin it

Because the Bronx keeps creatin it, rock on

"Bronx keeps creating it.." - [KRS-One {cut and scratched}]

[Fat Joe] The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!

"Bronx keeps creating it.." - [KRS-One {cut and scratched}]

[Fat Joe] The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!

[Fat Joe]

Aiyyo I'm comin on de dance with de spliff of sensei

The name is Fat Joe and the crew is BDP

Ninety-three, was the year that I debuted it

Representin, for all my niggaz gettin booted

Now who is the number one (Boricua on the Set)?

When in San Fran' I go check Sway and Tech

Otherwise I live the real live back in the BX

Known for transformin on rappers like I'm Jesus

You didn't know I order hits and what not?

Don't make me have to let the dogs loose

and hear the two-per shot, BOO-YA

Ain't it funny how nobody really cares

One minute you're here, the next minute you're under there

Word to Christ, I put out your lights

Every stripe's precise, K.O.'s in all fights

Fatal like Joe with this murderous flow

The Bronx keeps creatin it, you know how that go, peace

"Bronx keeps creating it.." - [KRS-One {cut and scratched}]

[Fat Joe] The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe, yeah!

"Bronx keeps creating it.." - [KRS-One {cut and scratched}]

Represent (1993)

• Livin' Fat
• My Man Ski (Interlude)
• Bad Bad Man
• Watch The Sound
• Flow Joe
• Da Fat Gangsta
• Shorty Gotta Fat Ass
• The Shit Is Real
• You Must Be Out Of Your Fuckin' Mind
• I Got This In A Smash
• Another Wild Nigger From The Bronx
• Get On Up
• I'm A Hit That 

Livin' Fat lyrics - Fat Joe

Yeah!

Check it out, check-a-check-a, check it out

Would you believe that Fat Joe would flip a style like this?

I can't get played, cause I roll with Baby Chris, nevertheless

niggaz be tryin to front the role

When everybody knows, I'm gonna go gold

at least, kickin the funky styles that you wanna hear

Joe is bigger and better, so have no fear

I'll be rippin the mic, clockin dough, stickin the hoes

After every single show, you know (know)

One of the best to grab the mic so don't try to front

Ain't nuttin here yours, so what the fuck you want?

When I step on stage, I'm second to none

Makin MC's run, without the use of a gun, yeah

Talkin about the way I rock a party

Niggaz must be thinkin that I'm high, or drunk on Bacardi

I be hippin and hoppin, rockin and shockin, the whole rap scene

I'm mean, my favorite color is green

I guess that's why they call it the blues

Your money you lose, cause you choose to disrespect and neglect

the skills of the Fat one, but I'm all that son

Gimme the microphone and I'ma show you how it's gonna be done

So don't fake moves, cause I never fall

That's how I'm livin, hey yo I'm livin Fat y'all

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Hey yo I'm livin Fat

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Yo I'm livin Fat

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Yo I'm livin Fat

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Look at the way I freak this style, I'm versatile

Niggaz don't want the funk, because they know I'm buckwild

Could you believe the rappers that they talk shit

While I be rippin the microphone and all my records are hits

The name is Fat Joe, I'm on the down low

I chill with Lord Finesse, you know I got the flow

I be freakin the funk, not fakin the funk, you're facin a punk, yeah

Fuck around and you'll be layin in ?v-ducts?

I got props, believe it or not

I never got caught, becuase I pay off the cops, yeah

One of the livest niggaz in New York

Sometimes I be chillin with Son

Sometimes I be chillin with Hawk, you know that

Brooklyn in the house and Uptown is too

I gotta be sayin peace, to the Boogie the Bronx crew

Pete, Sap, Brim, Vayo Mack, Gizmo, Nicer, B.G., my main man Crack

So now you know the flav, and you know the time

Brothers always be tellin me, "Joe why don't you kick a Fat rhyme"

So I don't front on my peeps

Kick a verse or two, then be out, and peace G

So don't try to step to dis, you know you take a fall

That's how I'm livin, hey yo I'm livin Fat y'all

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Aiyyo I'm livin FAT

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Aiyyo I'm livin FAT

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Aiyyo I'm livin FAT

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat [2X]

Aiyyo I'm livin FAT!

Ninety-three, Lord Finesse, Fat Joe, Diamond D

Showbiz and A.G., D.I.T.C. and I'm out

My Man Ski (Interlude) lyrics - Fat Joe

[unkonown speaker]

You my Muthafuckin son!

Alright, faggot bring your muthafuckin?

Imma call you ouuut muthafucka!

[Pause]

The muthafuckin shit is real!

[Fat Joe]

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

Muthafuckin real this is Fat Joe Da Gangsta!

Know what I'm sayin?

I got my man ski straight up for see 76 rockers

Alley,

He wanna say some shit, know what I'm sayin?

[unknown speaker]

You muthafuckin don't buy Fat Joe's records word

Up

Man Imma kill one of yall muthafuckas-

Imma kill your muthafuckin faaaaaaamily

Faaaaaaamily

Faaaaaaamily

Know what I'm sayin?

Ya'll faggot ass niggas out there?

Niggas better buy fat joe's record, faggot!

Bad Bad Man lyrics - Fat Joe

Yeah.. now in ninety-three

Everybody knows the flav

Fat Joe Da Gangsta, yeah

You know my style

Fat Joe, a.k.a. Da Fat Gangsta

I'm no joke, and I'm far from a prankster

I got skills, aiyyo word life

Suckers is scared, because they know I live trife

As I troop down the streets of a ghetto

Skins are jockin, and always screamin hello

But I keep drivin in my jet black Beamer

I'm not a daydreamer, but I'm known as a scheamer

I'm dead-ass, when it comes to this

And if you fuck around, your moms'll reminisce

Thinkin of the good times she spent with her son

Somebody shoulda told you that I wasn't the one

Yes I'm known to get nuff respect

and if you face Fat Joe, well then you face your death

Now in ninety-three, it's time to take a stand

And you know how I'm livin, I'm a bad, bad, man

Niggaz know the flav

"I'm a bad, bad, man!" [cut and scratched 2X]

Check it

All the old folks, hate my guts

Cause I be hittin all they daughters and they big fat butts

Cause I'm the papichulo when it comes to rap

and if you fuck with me, then you leave handicapped

I don't give a fuck, don't care who you are

I gotta say peace to my peeps GangStarr

Some real motherfuckers from around the hood

When I chills with them, we be up to no good

Hittin skins, makin ends

Loungin with my friends in my fat BM

Whether Uptown in the Boogie Down

Or checkin out stunts in the Polo Ground

See just like Mel, I'm internationally known

And I'm mob related, like Al Capone, check it

Too hot to handle, blow you like a candle

You never catch Joe in the middle of a scandal

Now in ninety-three it's time to take the stand

And you know how I'm livin, I'm a bad, bad, man!

Everybody knows the flav

"I'm a bad, bad, man!" [cut and scratched 2X]

One day I was chillin, caught a buckshot

The nigga was butt, so then he gets no props

Word spread fast around town

I was layin six feet deep underground, check it

Niggaz wished the worst, but spoke too fast

Cause here I am and I'm ready to blast [gunshot]

The cops must have missed, takin me for a bitch

Because they tried to gas me, and make me turn snitch

But I'm not the one for peace

So I turned around and said, "Fuck the police!"

I'm the type to handle this on my own

Pack two joints and pass one to Tone

There's no shame in my game, I do what I gotta do

See I'm rollin with a crazy live crew

Now in ninety-three it's time to take a stand

And you know how I'm livin I'ma bad, bad, man!

Yeah! Niggaz know the flav

"I'm a bad, bad, man!" [cut and scratched]

Nuff respect to my man Jazzy J

Diamond D, Showbiz and A.G., and I'm out

Word

"I'm a bad, bad, man!" [cut and scratched to end]

Watch The Sound lyrics - Fat Joe (feat. Diamond D, Grand Puba)

[Diamond D]

Ninety-three it's time man

(All out yo, because youknowhatI'msayin..)

[Fat Joe]

A Grand Puba (HOE) Diamond D (HOE)

Fat Joe (HOE) -- it's time to get the dough!

Grand Puba (HOE) Diamond D (HOE)

Fat Joe (HOE) -- it's time to get the dough!

Boom bip, BAM, here I am

Even fans in Japan, be tellin me I'm the man

Fat Joe, a.k.a. the woman fucker

Beat you down to the ground, stomp your face with my Chucker

So niggaz back up, yo I'ma set it

Fuckin with me, you won't live to regret it

I don't fake moves, I break peeps

I'm takin niggaz gold chains, they cash and the Jeeps

See I don't give a fuck about a niggaz rep

We can go glock for glock or tec for tec, sheeeeyit

I heard a motherfucker wants to turn snitch

I cut the niggaz head off, and sent it to his fuckin bitch

I ain't lettin a nigga take the stand

Play Sammy the Bull, be one dead man

See suckers can't hang with the slang

And if they bring the whole gang

well then they'll all catch a bang-bang

I come from the Bronx and not the Boogie Down

Niggaz don't ever come and front in my part of town

See everybody knows my pedigree

There ain't another motherfuckers that's better than me

I could make em pump, I could make em jump

But I'm mostly known for givin other niggaz lumps

So niggaz better chill and maintain

I'm blowin motherfuckers out the frame

And if a nigga try to flex

Fuck around, and catch a motherfuckin suplex

I wet a motherfucker like a shower

Don't test the Puerto Rican power

Fat Joe in the year of ninety-three

Peace to Grand Pu', and my man Diamond D

So _Punks Jump Up to Get Beat Down_

Yeah, but for now watch the sound

"Watch de sound when I tim-berr" [4X]

[Grand Puba]

Check it

Yo Fat Joe, it's time to fuckin flow

Niggaz know the game

It's time to blow the bitch-ass niggaz out the frame

Guess who comes to represent?

If you motherfuckers don't know, well here's a hint

It's the God and I still bag chicks

Make the girls feel hot, be like a faggot with the bag of dicks

So come on cause I'm comin for the basket

Say goodbye to your friends, and start headin for the casket

So Doogie make the daquiris; and light the chocolate

that you got from Willy Wonka in the Chocolate Factory

Let's squeeze a trigger for the nigga

See I flipped to the 'lo, cause I'm through with the Hilfiger

Cause I flips the flavor-loo

It's good for a fuck or two, you couldn't see this

no matter what the fuck you do

I smash that ass like a block of hash

Then I rob you for cash, you little bitch ass

"Watch de sound when I tim-berr" [4X]

[Diamond D]

Niggaz know the flav, I don't have to take a step

I earn my respect then quiet as kept

Yeah, guard your grill if you try to catch wreck

Smack the back of your neck, and take your YouthCore check

I make more dough than Gregory Peck

Never have to raise a fist, I keep my stunts in check

I play a nigga out, like a Las Vegas dealer

Living in the light, just like Karen Wheeler

So back up, and take a good look, because you should look

at what a good cook, can do without a fuckin cookbook

I don't sniff coke, and I don't smoke coolies

Even Italians say I'm one cool moolie

But niggaz call me JoJo

I'm quick to stick a chick, cause I kick the Willie BoBo

on the Northside, on the Southside, on the Westside

You can't budge me nigga, even the best tried

to pull a fast one, but you know what happened to the last one?

(What?) He got his motherfuckin ass done

(Yeah!) So step up, front, I'm not a bitch-ass chump

Chicks by the clicks, cause my pockets got the mumps

See I'm the wrong nigga to fuck with

Don't try to play yourself, cause you'll be stuck with

a motherfuckin ice pick right through the cheek

I'm leavin crab niggaz, layin in the street

I won't 'fess, walk around with a vest

Knockin niggaz off, cause I could care less

You want a fair one, FORGET IT

And your girlfriend, yo I let my man hit it

So save the bluff, you know you ain't tough (yeah)

I pull your card cause you're soft like fluff kid

I never ever did a bid

I punch a nigga down a Row named Skid

"Watch de sound when I tim-berr" [8X]

Flow Joe lyrics - Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]

Ahhhhhhh yeah!

Da Fat Gangsta

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

You gotta flow Joe, you gotta flow Joe

You gotta gotta gotta gotta let em know Joe

[Fat Joe]

Bust it, check it, watch how I wreck it

Niggaz watch your back, shit is gettin hectic

I catch vibes like Count Basie, sucker won't face me

I'm so much flavor you can taste me

I'm underground like a gutter

You never catch me - stutter, everybody knows that I'm butter

I'm not the man with sensitivity

The name is Fat Joe, the label's Relativity, huh

I chop a rapper like a meat cleaver

I'm burnin hot, people think I have a fever, check it

If niggaz wanna front, then come widdit

If you're havin second thoughts, well then forget it, see

I dig in my crates, I don't per-pa-trates

I got shit sewn, like Billy Bathgate

Beware like Cocoa, yo I'm not a slow boat

Got so much dough I va-cate in Acapulco

Crazy as they come I'm not the one, we can do this

with the hands, or take it to the guns..

You know I can flow, the name is Fat Joe

I can flow, I can flow, I can flow

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]

Yeah, yeah

Everybody knows Fat Joe's in town

Nuff respect for the Boogie Down

I'm livin in the Bronx on an Ave called Trinity

My name rings bells, within the vicinity

Peace to the money makers always plottin mono

Together we gettin dough, just like Lucky Luciano

People always tell me, yo you're dope Joe

But I'm not a car, so I don't get gassed like Amoco

Never ate the paint, no I'm not a sucker

Never liked ? so to Hell with the Rucker

Always on my own never sweatin nobody

Warm up a crowd like a bottle of Bacardi

I can kick it this way, I can kick it thattaway

I kick a funky style, from New York to Piscataway

Suckers best scram

Now in ninety-three it's all about the Fat Man

Peace to Finesse, Showbiz and A.G.

Gizmo, Little Hec', and Kool Micskit (say what?)

My crew from Uptown

And if you mess around, then you'll catch a beatdown

See I got this in a smash

If a rapper steps up, he'll get smoked

like a blunt full of hash

My style of rap is legendary

Fuck with the man, then you'll end up in the cemetary

And that's word to Ma Duke

I never fake moves, I'll go out like a troop

So act like you know, the name is Fat Joe

I can flow, I can flow, I can flow

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]

Yeah

See I rip the mic if you put me to a test

Troop it gets so bad, I make you wanna wear a vest

Cause I'm too hot to handle

Knockin niggaz out like ?Livingston Bramble?

Rappers come heavy, but yo I weigh a ton

I won't lose weight cause I'm not on the run

I'm on point like a sniper, hyper than the hyper

On the DL, overlooked by C-Cypher

Never get caught, I'm on top with my game

Flip a fat ride, there's no need for a train

Rappers come close, but they just can't make it

When it comes to the funk, you know I won't fake it

Peace to Serge, and my right hand Flex

And when I grab the mic nobody wants to rock next

The name is Fat Joe, cause Joe is livin Fat

Niggaz gettin jealous cause I got a contract

But I don't sweat it, I know the style is raw

You can't compare me to a cornball

And you know I kick game like a hottie

Now in ninety-three, they should free John Gotti

If you step, battle and I'm gonna mash your toes

You know I got the flow

[Chorus 1.5X]

Da Fat Gangsta lyrics - Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]

Yeah.. uh-huh..

Chill.. hah, yeah..

C'mon..

I'm comin rougher than the roughest motherfucker could get

Playin Russian Roulette, never lost a bet yet

Bluffin, ain't my style, niggaz ain't sayin nothin

Cause I'm buckwild without frontin

Raw to the core, I grew up poor

Once I hit the door, I began to explore

Curiosity killed my cat, but not me

because I learned how to kill with agility

I grew up in the South Bronx, punch you in your mouth punk

I know these streets like Fred Sanford knows junk

In the trunk of a car lays a body

Head decapitated, bust him with my shotty

Stabbed the mug, to make sure, he wasn't comin back

Now police, can picture that, with a Kodak.. huh!

They can't stop me with a homicide investigation

Cause if they do my crew is hittin up the station

Your best bet, is to let me jet

Cause I bring war, like a vet, when I'm upset.. huh!

I'm not the one you wanna play out in a program

Yo, you better tell them who the hell I am

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Yeah! [2X]

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Tell em who the hell I am

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta"

[Fat Joe]

Now on the hip-hop tip, I'm no joke

Get live at a jam, and leave a system broke when I spoke

MC's froze, but I never said freeze

Hopin I don't hit em like a fucked up disease

Fall up in the club, Mr. Hype for a night

Choke a rapper with a cord, hang him from the lights.. huh!

Now you do wanna mess around with the Fat Man

cause you see my face in every newsstand

Every other magazine from Billboard to Spin

Pick it up and read Fat Joe strikes again

How true, I'm not about weed and brew

I'm just another papichulo like the rest of my crew

So give me the microphone

This jam is dedicated to my main man Tone

Cause he flips, and I flip, and we flip the script

And you know, you don't wanna get your ass WHIPPED

Party over here, another in the hospital

Lincoln, Memorial, notice that's how I sent you, hah

I was the one who played the shoot 'em up games

Here's another patient, and yo what's my name?

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Yeah! [2X]

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Tell em who the hell I am

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta"

[Fat Joe]

So I cruise around in the B-M

or in the Benz, hurtin enemies and makin new friends

They shake my hand, smile in my face

The nine's in my waist, so there won't be a chase

That's it, the situation is blown out of proportion

When you leave, you must use caution

Look over your shoulder, even on your block

When I come to visit, you know you're in shock

So don't say who is it, act like you know

Kickin down doors is the Gangsta Fat Joe

And I got no time for games

My name is goin down in the gangsta hall of fame

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Yeah!

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta" Tell em who the hell I am

"This is Joe Da Fat Gangsta"

[Fat Joe]

Yeah.. Fat Joe Da Gangsta

Representin in ninety-three

Peace to my man Diamond D

Peace out to my man Ski

This jam is ?letido?, ha hah

Shorty Gotta Fat Ass lyrics - Fat Joe

Well it's Friday night, I'm in a club with a crew just maxing

Cuties and booties and yo I'm ready for action

Cause Fat Joe doesn't go to clubs for his health

It's too many skins, so every man for himself

I got me a Sex on the Beach from the bar

I know this girl was looking at me from afar

Plus she with a crew, they all got it going on

She came over and asked me if my name was John

I said, "Yeah, John Doe, so what's it to you?"

She said "Sorry yo, I just thought I knew you"

She walked away dissed because I had dropped the bomb

I felt bad so I reached out and snatched her arm

I pulled her back, gave her my apologies

She accepts it, but now she starts to follow me

Watching where I'm going, seeing who I know

Once she saw the Gucci, she said "Oh, that's Fat Joe"

I could hear the conversation, Shorty was digging me

No way she was igging me, ayo she was big on me

Throughout the night she remained in my eyesight

My man Black Caese was telling me "Yo she's fly, right?"

No that the jam is over there's no need to front

Cause she's leaving out the club and I'm right behind her

Now we in the deli butt naked catching wreck at last

Cause shorty gotta fat ass

Shorty gotta fat ass [Repeat 3x]

She got a big fat...

Driving in my Five on the live side of town

One of those days I just wanna ride around

With three deep, me Diamond D, and Peep

(Who's Peep?) That's my man that be whipping the white jeeps

So bust it, I hit Fordham road in the town

Cause I'm riffing in the front fool, Luther Vandross

Never too much, and what did I see?

Honeygrip had a little too much for me

Diamond said "Damn!" Peep said "I know her!"

Yeah right, whatever, I'm still pulling over

Hey mamita, Spanish I'm assuming

A Spanish caught wreck and that ass was booming

I couldn't see her face cause she wouldn't turn around

Peep is out the window staring Five-O down (Bo bo bo!)

Chill with that, cause I wanna stop and chat

Like a diplomat, yo you're fucking up my rep

She wouldn't turn around so I reached for her pelvis

She turned around, ugly hound dog, and I felt this (God damn!)

Money grip was ugly, I had to find out at last

But shorty had a fat ass

Shorty gotta fat ass [Repeat 3x]

She got a big fat...

No need to be ill come all out my face

But the name is Fat Joe and in love I got good taste

Big butts come a dime a dozen in New York

I couldn't help but notice when I watch you walk

You got the booming system and I don't mean sound

I want to smack it up, flip it, and rub it down

I know girls try to say I'm living foul

But you know you can't trust a big but and a smile

I'm not concerned with the niggas in your past

But straight up and down, shorty gotta fat ass

Shorty gotta fat ass [Repeat 3x]

She got a biiiiiig...

Shorty gotta fat ass [Repeat 3x]

She got a biiiig, ha ha

The Shit Is Real lyrics - Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]

Yeah

This is goin out..

to all the live motherfuckers, knowhatI'msayin?

All the real niggaz

Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens

California

LaBella Puerto Rico, wherever the fuck you from

KnowhatI'msayin? Yeah

This story takes place, back in the South Bronx

where at the age of 14 I was already knockin off punks (yeah!)

And suckers were scared to death -- every time I walked by

I hear them niggaz take their last breath (ahhh..)

See I just didn't give a fuck - and if you had a C-skin

a leather bomber, you was gettin stuck (word!)

That was the way it was

One day I went to visit my aunt, and stuck up my cuz

See shit was fucked up back then

No matter what the fuck I did I never had no ends

And my moms was on walfare

Aiyyo I knew I had a father, but the nigga was never there

So what the fuck was I to do

I'm sick and tired of bein the bummiest nigga out the crew

I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash

I see an old man, I'm gonna rob him with the quick-fast

Give me your motherfuckin loot, papi

I'm gonna get paid, and can't a damn thing stop me

See, I'm tired of this poor shit

And who the cops? Well they can suck my motherfuckin dick

Cause all them niggaz ever do is harass

That's why I get glad when I hear somebody smoked that ass [gunshot]

Just to let ya know how I feel

Word em up, the fuckin shit is real

Hey yo, it's real

[Chorus: (cuts "Down on the reel to reel")]

Aiyyo the shit is real

Aiyyo it's real

Word up, the shit is real

[Fat Joe]

Now I'm sixteen and there's a brand new scene

I'm makin mad loot, gettin paid off the dope fiends (word)

Keep the shit in check, in order

and my main man Tone was fuckin everybody else's daughter

See everybody knew in town

that Joe and Tone had shit locked down

And a nigga wouldn't test me

It seems like every other day the fuckin cops arrest me (yea!)

But the shit will never stick

I make one phone call and be out like quick

Cause Uncle Dan had my back

And now niggaz gettin jealous cause they know I'm livin fat

Talkin shit around the way and on the block

But never in my face, cause they knew I packed a glock

And my crew is mad deep

A bunch of crazy Puerto Ricans, so aiyyo don't sleep (word!)

And all you bitch ass niggaz know the deal

Check it out, the fuckin shit is real

Hey yo, it's real

[Chorus: (cuts "Down on the reel to reel")]

Aiyyo it's real

The fuckin shit is real

Yeah.. aiyyo it's real

[Fat Joe]

Check it out

Let me let ya know why I made this song (why?)

Brothers can't deal with the real, word is bond

I'm sick and tired of these fake ass niggaz

sayin that they catchin bodies when they never pulled a trigga

I know your style, I've seen it before

You wear an army suit, now you think you're hardcore

Drinkin on your 40's, smokin on your blunts

Can't afford a chain so you wear gold fronts, yeah

You're fakin the funk, kid

And you'll be gettin it up the ass if you ever did a fuckin bid

It's time to separate the real from the phony

The name is Fat Joe, punk, act like you know me

I come equipped with the ruff shit

Nowadays I can't believe the bull rappers come up with

And all ya bitch-ass niggaz know the deal

Check it out, the fuckin shit is real

Hey yo, it's real

[Chorus: (cuts "Down on the reel to reel")]

Aiyyo the shit is real

Aiyyo it's real

The fuckin shit is real

[Fat Joe]

Word up!

I wanna say peace to my peeps, The Beatnuts

Messengers of Funk, Strickly Roots

My man Funk Flex, Zulu Nation

Jazzy J in the house

Diamond D, the whole Diggin' in the Crates crew

And rest in peace to my man Tony Montana

Aiyyo, I'm out, word is bond

The shit is real

[cuts "Down on the reel to reel"]

Aiyyo