Альбом Fat Joe

[Нет текста]

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

[Нет текста]

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

f/ 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

[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

[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

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)

[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"*)

f/ Apache, Kool G. Rap

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm gonna kick your ass" "Hey you, come here" (Repeat 3x)

[Apache]
Aw shit, it's time to get (Dum dum!)
If you took what you got, lick a shot (Pump pump!)
When the dough is low, we go (Stick up, stick up!)
You get knocked on the block, we say (Big up, big up!)
Check the misfit, time to rip shit
Time to get with the nitwit lyrical lunatic
In the street I stay strong cause I'm armed
With a nine, what up nig? You must be out of your fucking mind
I'm much more than you expect, kid
To identify your ass they'll have to use your fucking dental records
So step up, come come, don't be bashful
I got a steel toe and you can get an assful
Cause if it's me you think you're better than
You'll need a sniffly, sneezy, coughing, stuffy head, get your ass with medicine
You can feel, shit is real, my mind can set me free
So I can continue my MC killing spree
The police, they try to keep me in the clink, yo
I got 'em ducking and bucking, so I don't think so
I bust your whole shit if you're not kind
Stomping comp? You must be out of your FUCKING mind!

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass" "Hey you, come here" (Repeat 2x)

[Kool G. Rap]
Chitty chitty bang bang, I'm coming like a chain gang
>From outta Sang Sang to make your motherfucking brains hang
Try to diss this, then you'll enlist for the stiffs
Snatch your bitch up at Crystal and then I fuck her with a pistol
A nigga with heart, walk through a park in the dark
Fuck the drug marks stomping me, I'll play your fucking heart, so be smart
Cut all that bullshit and clown, I'll be the only nigga laying down
When everybody else is sitting
So who's the next man to hit? I slip in a banana clip
And I hit, come and get your bandana split
Shit, fuck, bitch who's the snitch?
You may be down with Mikey and Ikey, but you're laying in a fucking ditch
With motherfucking maggots with the rest of them faggots
Cause your license to kill was from Tagget's
I warned a brother of another brother's glock
And I said "What's up, duck?" And I had my motherfucking gun cocked
So be a sport, another lesson drug
Holding down the fort and a stupid-ass nigga got caught
So he made prime time cause I had the nine
Yeah, you must be out of your FUCKING mind!

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass" "Hey you, come here" (Repeat 2x)

[Fat Joe]
Sucker back up, a real motherfucker's on stage
I shoot the gift like a motherfucking 12 guage
Niggas know I'm versatile
No question I'm buckwild, I'm killing rappers executioner style
Hanging motherfuckers with a mic cord
I'm a rap lord, suckers always get me bored
Saying that they that and this
Ayo they get me pissed, cause motherfuckers ain't jack shit
I'm here to represent the Boogie Down
Making niggas leave town before sundown
And if you don't listen, G
I'll stick a knife up your ass like "American Me"
I'm serving motherfuckers like Wimbleton
I shock a crowd like a bottle of insulin
And niggas always get me vexed
I'm tired of motherfuckers trying to sound like Das Efx
You'd better hold your own, child
Cause I'm laying suckers like rugs and tiles
This is the bigger nigger with the mad lines
You step to me? You must be out of your FUCKING mind!

"You must be out your fucking mind, man"
"I'm a kick your ass" "Hey you, come here" (Repeat 2x)

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, now you motherfuckers know the flav, East Coast style
Fat Joe, G. Rap, and Apache
You step to us, you must be out of your FUCKING mind!

Yeah, it's time to let 'em know how I got this here
Fat Joe Da Gangsta, got this in a smash, know what I'm saying?
Showbiz, Diamond D, check this out

Awww, one to the head, I don't give a fuck
Suckers better duck, buck buck buck buck!
I let off mad shots
You get dragged when you face the big shot
Yeah, and the Bronx is my territory
Suckers getting sprayed, end of story
Whether one deep or with my crew
I pack a .45, my girl packs a .22
Huh, so you know I'm all right
If niggas want beef, then I give 'em a hell of a fight
Yeah, I'm quick to blow a nigga out the frame
I'm insane, pushing punks in front of a train
Cause I don't have it up to here
Talking about skins, I have more than Richard Gere
Yeah, cause I got it like that
It ain't hard to tell that Joe is living fat
How I last and surpass any nigga who shows his ass
Is gonna end up getting blast
Run for jewels and give me the cash
Everybody knows I got this in a smash

Yeah, you know I got this in a smash (So what's up, what's up?) (Repeat 4x)

Aw shit, another brother hit
This time it's Tone, life is a fucking bitch
It really hurts when the shit hits home
Early in the morning, they calling me on the phone
Telling me my man caught eight to the chest
Nah, this couldn't be, Tone always wore a vest
But that's the way the story goes
Today you're here, and tomorrow who knows?
Man I'm gonna miss him, I love him to death
Charlie's in jail and I'm the only brother left
It's time to get strong, forget about the sorrow
But like Ike said, no one is promised tomorrow
Fuck the bullshitting, it's time to get cash
Don't fuck with me cause I got this in a smash

Yeah, you know I got this in a smash (So what's up, what's up?) (Repeat 4x)

Well it's the F-A-T, Gang S-T-E-R
Living like a star, drive a fat car
525 and I'm crazy live
Not all the loot in the world could make me take a dive
Fucking mad bitches on the first date
Straight to the telly, hit the skins, I gotta skate
See, I got no time for a stunt
Because a 40 and a blunt, that's all she really wants
Yeah, so dough keeps collecting PC
Knocking out punks with my man Diamond D
Cause everybody knows I'm the man
And if you fuck with me, then shit'll hit the fan
I took mad flicks since '76
Robbing every other brother for their motherfucking kicks
I once heard a kid say he's his brother's keeper
His brother turned around and bust him with a street sweeper
Everybody wants the cash
But don't fuck with me cause I got this in a smash

f/ Gizmo, Keith Keith, King Sun

Aiyyo Fat Joe, it's your first album right?
You comin out the South Bronx
Time to let brothers know what time it is

T.S. in the house, yo T.S. in the house

[Fat Joe]
Yeahhhhhh.. like this!
Chilly Dee (represent, and uh)
Gizmo (represent, and uh)
Keith Keith (represent, and uh)
King Sun (represent, and uh)
Fat Joe (represent, and uh)
Uptown (represent, and uh)
Uptown (represent, and uh)
Uptowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwn!

[Gizmo]
I'm from the West Bubblefuck so fasten your seatbelts and buckle up
I'm the type of brother to beat you down then fuck you up
Grabbin the mic to rock on tonight to see if the crowd will care
Step to the Gizzy you dare, you get lit up like a flare
from the, Bronx the Boogie Down battleground, Uptown
Turn smiles to frowns as I smack clowns around
Shorts I don't take em, bones I fracture and break
So make not one mistake, or you get eat like steaks at Frank's G
Jack in June, gettin swept, with a broom soon
to meet your doom, mornin night or the afternoon
Harassin the mic, with a verbal assault of rap
Stick lyrics back to back, that'll pack, to keep myself on wax
Hot like an iron, to defeat the kids you gotta keep tryin
If you spread any rumors sayin you took me out, you're lyin
A human beat is struck I know when it really sounds trunk
I'm never ever buck I don't give a fuck if you think that I'm a sucker
Parties that I've made, people wonder how long it lasted
Lyrics that are so hardcore, it'll leave you flabbergasted
Gasp for air, inhale it hold it in
And just wait for the rest of the posse to begin
I'm the human beat magician with the bag full of fun
Ammunition's the addition to the sawed offfff!

"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
(Keith Keith!) Another wild nigga from the Bronx!

[Keith Keith]
Run for help when the mic's in my hand
I kick rhymes like I'm a rap Van Damme
And eat MC's like a cake or a slice of pie
I'm not a pimp but I bop like I'm Superfly
People say who's he? I'll give any crew beef
So act like you know or get ate-n like stew, chief
I hold my own yet don't stand alone, I'm well known
Go 'head and front and get smocked like a neckbone
Think you better chill troop, cause I'm not havin that
and flippin on niggaz like a somersaultin acrobat
Go get your crew and y'all still couldn't do the man
I'm blowin up in ninety-three like an ash can
I know niggaz sip this, bitches wanna dip this
I snatch your girl up, and molest her like a rapist
Huh, go 'head and look real hard like I'm a sucka
I'll beat that ass like the L.A. trucker fucka
So step up and let me hear your response
Yeah, yo, another wild nigga from the Bronx

"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
(King Sun!) Another wild nigga from the Bronx!

[King Sun]
Mr. Fifty-Two pick-up, nobody move
It's a stick-up, which proves, my getaway is butter smooth
I'm not the Smooth Operator with the ladies
but I get kinda crazy if you let me pick the daisies
One thing never say run, King Sun
I never ran, cause in my hand, I keeps a gun
Representin where I'm from in a bumrush
Roll up, flip, then be out on the hush-hush
Don't touch or feel, it's real, showin mad skills
Hotter than heat, yet colder than the Catskills
Don't play the yard, fake Gods ain't got nuttin for me
I'm loungin with Tone and Corey
on one-six-oh, then I go and check Fat Joe
on Trinity, the South Bronx vicinity
Smokin up your favorite MC like a dread smoke skunk
cause I'm another wild nigga from the Bronx
Hittin em up, settin em up, splittin em up, gettin em up
Rippin em up, trippin em up, bag em! Zippin em up
Makin them shout, playin them out, son ain't the one
The bigga the nigga to bust em with the sawed off shotgun

"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
(Fat Joe!) Another wild nigga from the Bronx!

[Fat Joe]
Aww shit, what we have here
Ninety-three and it's a brand new year
My name is Fat Joe I got shit locked down
Runnin with the Latins and the blacks from Uptown
It's a damn shame, you better maintain
I'm causin hysteria blowin niggaz out the frame
Yes I can-can, I'm the Fat Man
Never run, never ran, it's not in the plan
I got skills you best chills, get off the dillsnilz
Your rhymes are trash and no frills
Carbon copy you're sloppy, see Joe ain't the one
I'm beatin bootleggers down with King Sun
Rollin over niggaz like a truck
I come from the Bronx, a.k.a., West Bubblefuck
My rhymes are homicidal, I take your title
I'm Joe Da Fat Gangsta, far from Billy Idol
I get you open on the freestyle tip
Now are you hip to the way I flip the script? Hah
I'm Puerto Rican, I'll leave you dead and stinkin
I pimp in my beamer, do my drivebys in a Lincoln
Hip-Hop was born Uptown, the Boogie Down
If you bring your whole crew I shut 'em down!
I'm known from state to state, for shootin down punks
I'm another wild nigga from the Bronx

"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill
[All] Another wild nigga from the Bronx!
"Sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump" -> Cypress Hill

Here we go, now I'm back
I got soul, although I'm not black
Pass the mic and I'm a spark it
Cause I'm the hottest rapper on the market
I used to shoot dice to the curb
Peace to my brothers on 163rd
Hold your head and stay strong
My main man Roadie got it going on
So now you know the time
Bust how I flip it, check the rhyme
I kick the hits even with the big belly
Cause I freak the funk like my man R. Kelly
So give me that honey love
You know what I'm thinking of
Joe's the man with the master plan
I got more rhymes than the beats got fans
Peace to Greg Nice and Smooth B
And if you don't believe then you soon shall see
That I'll be the last to survive
I won't fake the funk, I won't take a dive
So now you know what's up
I make the crowd bounce and get on up

"Get on up" "Get on up!" (Repeat 4x)

This is a jam for the radio station
Peace to the whole Zulu Nation
I'm so bad, call the cops
I got props, I'm gonna rule hip-hop
Cause I'm the only real rap monster
I love eating shrimp and lobster
City Island is my favorite place
Step in Sammy's and dog my face
Losing weight, that must be a joke
Cause I eat four steaks and drink a Diet Coke
Although I'm big I won't take a swig
Of the Moet, it makes me a much worse poet
And you know that's not the mood, black
Diamond always hits me with the crazy fat tracks
So now you know what's up
I make the crowd bounce, get on up

"Get on up" "Get on up!" (Repeat 4x)

"Get On Up" is the name of this song
Bounce to the beat if you got it going on
Now in '93, maybe '94
They'll have a Fat Joe tour
Coming to your town with the brand new sound
Representing for the whole Boogie Down
So don't grab the mic or you'll get hurt
If you come in a Bez then you'll leave in a hearse
That's that, everybody knows the flav
Misbehave and you'll dig your own grave
Fat Joe, chopping down trees
Nuff respect to Showbiz & A.G.
Peace to my buckwild crew from the Bronx
I hope you'll strike me gets a good response
And if you like the vibe, act like you know
You can get on up with your man Fat Joe, and I'm out

"Get on up" "Get on up!" (Repeat 4x)

To my people from Brooklyn, get on up
And to my people from Manhattan, get on up
To my people from the Bronx (Get on up)
To my people from Cali
To my people from Texas
To my people from Atlanta
To my people in Detroit
Everybody in the world just get on up

Baby come and see me, I know you want to see me
The brothers out there fronting that only want to be me
They don't really have it, yo missy you can grab it
So open nice and wide so I can start to stab it
Before I do my duty, really knock the booty
I want to let you know you're a real hot cutie
Baby it's time, I gotta go for mine
We can rub a dub or wine wine wine
I can take you up or be very gentle
Whatever you want, cause it's all in the mental
See, I'm a pour silver, all over your body
Get you real freaky, I know you love it, hottie
Baby, I'm a lick you, tell me does it tickle
I won't hit the skins if it smells like pickle
Smooth like butter, though I won't stutter
Sit on my lap if you really wanna
Get with the man who really knows how
To knock the boots, God bless the child
So don't try to front and give me your back
Cause you and I know I'm a hit that

"Skins, you got 'em" "Hit it!" (Repeat 4x)

Man I really love it, yo I really need it
I have a fat jimmy and I have to feed it
Sometimes I'm filled with humor, I know a girl named Zuma
We hit the sack once, then she started rumors
Telling all the chicks that I was really good
I'm big like a train, but I'm the man that could
Give you what you need, give you what you want
I guess I'm like Kenieval, cause yo I love stunts
We could get together, whatever is clever
I used to watch Dynasty just to see Heather
That was then, and now is now
And if Heather ever sees me, she'll scream "Wow"
The big man of rap, and even more nosey
I'm gonna flip, but yo I got hoes
Don't try to front and give me your back
Because you and I know I'm a hit that