 Jealous On » Lyrics [+ Lisätä +] |
1. _ Success
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 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, ? 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 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) more free lyrics |
2. _ Bronx Tale
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 more free lyrics |
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3. _ Fat Joe's Way
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4. _ Part Deux
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!" more free lyrics |
5. _ Say Word
[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 more free lyrics |
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6. _ King Of New York
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7. _ Dedication
[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.. more free lyrics |
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8. _ Gangbanging Interlude
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9. _ Envy
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 more free lyrics |
10. _ Fat Joe's in Town
{*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.."*} more free lyrics |
11. _ Watch Out
[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.. more free lyrics |
12. _ Success
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 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, ? 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 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) more free lyrics |
13. _ Bronx Keeps Creating It
"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} more free lyrics |
14. _ Respect Mine
[Raekwon] 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 more free lyrics |
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