Jealous On

[fat joe]
It's so depressing, uh..
Be the realest shit i ever wrote (money and cars bitches)
Shit is real part 2.. (drugs) modern day.. (society yaknow?)
See what it's like to walk in my shoes
It ain't all fun and games (ya heard?)

Yo yo
I'm sick and tired of stressin, every days a different lesson
I'm free-fallin tryna leave this deep depression
My son joey still slow, my moms got cancer in her throat
My big brother sniffin dope
Lemme know how many motherfucker wanna be just like me
Screamed at and treated like shit by your wifey
This hot bitch be sweatin the coke cash
My baby mother think i grow dough out my ass
It's like, how much fight i got left in me?
Niggaz won't be happy till they bring the fuckin death of me
But you never see joe look weak or flow off beat
And charlie sees the board in four more weeks

[chorus] 2x
You gotta walk where i walked
Bang where i bang
Slang where i hang
To get where i'm going to
Stay where i stay
Blaze who i blazed
Pay dues how i payed
To get where i'm going to

[fat joe]
Uh, yo, the south bronx, nine years later
Ain't nuttin changed, niggaz still playa haters
T.s. the best that's done it, forever live and never front it
Reminisce of when i used to hold heat and tell niggaz "run it"
Now we flooded with jewels, hundreds of dudes
Crowd the coliseum to hear they favorite tunes
Then at the time of our prime we caught a sick one
The angels came down, took my twin big pun
Shit were unbalanced throughout the whole world
All i could do was try to provide for his seeds and his old girl
Hope your listenin, tell ton' that we still missin him
I'm like a prisoner in jail with no visitors

[chorus] 2x

[fat joe]
Yeah, uh, aiyyo the third verse is dedicated to you
Even though you switched teams, i'm praying for you
We used to stay up all night countin dollar for dollar
You was my son's godfather, where the fuck is your honor?
Can't even rap the shit we did together
You'd probably have me shackled locked down doin bids forever
You broke the first code
I'd like to twist ya wifey till it roasts gold
Snitch nigga, turned state to sold ya soul
How could a nigga that was clappin in the streets
Start yappin to the deez, like what i rightly should believe?
Like ever verse is a charge, for every hurt there's a scar
I never once tried to hurt cha'll
I'm just tryna do me, sell a few cd's
Buy land in miami and cop a new b come on!

[joe talking]
Motherfuckers think it's sweet
Think a nigga got money and a nigga don't feel pain
You ain't never feel my pain
You don't know what the fuck i'm goin through
Niggaz lookin at me like, "he got it made"
Like i ain't lose pun, my grandfather a week later
My aunt a month later
Like my fuckin sister ain't in a coma right now!
You motherfuckers don't know pain!
Let's get one thing clear; money'll never buy you happiness
My true niggaz walk with me now!

[chorus] 2x

[fat joe]
Uh-oh, uh-oh..
Let's get it over with.
Yo sound boy turn the levels up
Let's get it over with, uh!
Terror squad up in this motherfucker
Where my real niggaz at?
My bronx niggaz, my (?) niggaz
I see you lil' hat! uh, ahaha!
It's time to take it to these niggaz right here
Yeah.. yo.. yo..

Who wanna spaz out? crunchtime, blow ya abs out
Leave you in the fetal position, witcha ass out
Ready to mash out any crew actin like
They the true facts of life, frontin through the camera lights
Despite, we hold it down regardless
I got def jam suckin me like, "i wish you was my artist"
For starters, who's the largest cat?
Get a hundred grand from my most garbage rap
Now how hard is that? everything we spit be hot
Whether it's live on flex or in front of the chicken spot
Grimed out, we really live whatchu rhyme 'bout
See me posted up in the tunnel, with my shines out
Ice cold like alaska when i pass ya
Got girls shakin, losin they breath, as if they catchin asthma
Headed to the bar to pop some bottles
Now we in the car headed home to rock some models
All i hear in the background is gucci and prada
But i'm tryna gas these bitches to screw me for nada
We the best that done it, confess you fronted
Anybody wanna test how much straps, you want it?

[hook - fat joe]
Aiyyo the gangsta's back
Stop it right where you at
Let a real nigga rock real murderer rap
Tell them thug niggaz, listen to that
Gotchu feelin it hard like joe the god's really bringin it back!

[fat joe]
I'm from my days and legends, since age eleven
I was the cause of dope fiends catchin aids infections
Most of us are dead, but the rest is locked
Runnin in the rec room and check me out on the box
A ceo could get optioned tryna change the channel
It's like tryna take the flesh outta the mouth of hungry cannibals
Joe the god, the flow is hard
Known for packin two dozen birds like noah's ark
I'm the realest of 'em, make you feel the pressure
Catch you at a club, smack you up, steal ya leather
You niggaz soften me, beat you out of the mix
Tough talk, tough walk, but you cry like a bitch
I see you downin the cris', i'm not hatin, i'm just aggrevated
I ask myself every day, how these faggots made it?
Fuck around with the don and get decapitated
I'm sick of hearin 'em (?) for all the cats that made it

[hook - fat joe]

[hook 2 - armageddon]
Aiyyo the kid is back
Leave it right where you at
Let a real nigga hold that, you probably won't clap
Tell them thug niggaz, move it on back
I'm feelin tight and i'm hot
Ready to pop the crack right through your back

[armageddon]
That's how kenny rocks, i'm more advanced than how your learnin
I'm like the force of space balance and planets while they churnin
Poppin rosary beads, piss on ya candle while it's burnin
Rush ya widows crib and pop ya... bodies...
Now i know you can feel the heat i generate
Imagine when i penetrate ya stomach, and make ya body's center bake
We can argue for days, whether it's faster to drop five shots
In ya astronaut before you cloud the stash box
Splash ya brains on ya birds' laps
Swerve you on the curb, crash the range, and push the front skirt back
And murk after that, blurtin curse words
Yo i popped that nigga's son one before we catch the first
I'ma kill any murderer, leave a nigga burpin up
Blood, chokin on chunks of his lung interior
Every verse that i spit's a personal riff
I meet a ill key frontin, i'm a murder you shit
Niggaz play me while distrubin the bricks
I'm like the feelin of the first time they ever held a bird in they grip
Motivator thug, scrape 'em, shoot the bolts in his butt
Energizin 'em up, make 'em wanna open 'em up
Actin like i can't happen till i smack him in his adam's apple
Death to rappin, i don't wanna battle
I'd rather rush your studio session and shatter the booth
Clap at ya face, give the mic feedback the goof

[hook]
[hook 2]

Fat joe:
Put the fuckin' mic on
Mic is on
Joe crack the don uh
Yeah, yeah, y'all
Irv gotti

Ashanti:
What's love?

Fat joe:
Ashanti, terror, terror squad
It should be about us
Be about trust

Chorus: ashanti (ja rule) {fat joe}
What's love? (got to do, got to do with it babe) {yeah, yeah, y'all}
What's love?
It's about us {it's about us}
It's about trust babe {be about trust}
What's love? (got to do, got to do with it babe) {yeah, yeah, uh}
What's love?
It should be about us {it should be about us}
It should be about trust babe {be about trust}
What's love?

Verse 1: fat joe
Yeah, yeah, uh, uh, woo, yeah, slow down baby
Let you know from the gate i don't go down lady
I wanna chick with thick hips
That licks her lips
She can be the office type or like to strip
Girl you get me aroused how you look in my eye
But you talk to much man your ruinin' my high
Don't wanna lose the feelin'
Cause the roof is chillin'
It's on fire & you lookin'
Good for the gettin'
I'm rida
Other in a hoodie or a linner i'ma provider
You should see the jewelery on my women
& i'm livin' it up
The squad stay feelin' the truck
With chicks that's willin' to triz with us uh
You say you gotta man & your in love
But what's love
Gotta do with a little menage
After the party
Just me & you
Could just slide for a few
& she could come too
That's love!

Chorus

Verse 2: fat joe
Yeah, uh, yeah, yo, mommy, i know you got issues
You gotta man
But you need to understand
That you got something with you
Ass is fat, frame is little
Tattoo in your chest with his name in the middle
Uh, i'm not a hater i just crush a lot
& the way you shake your booty i don't want you to stop
You need to come a little closer (you need to come a little closer)
& let me put you under my arm like a don is supposed ta (like a don is supposed ta)
Please believe
You leave with me
We'd be freakin' all night like we was on e
You need to trust the god & jump in the car
For a little hard 8 at the taj mahal
What's love?

Chorus

Verse 3: fat joe, ashanti

Yeah, uh, yo, i stroll in the club with my hat down
Michael jack style
Hot 7 who the mack now?
Not my fault cause they love the kid
Ma be the chain or the whip
I don't know what it is
We just party & bullshit
Come on mommy put your body in motion
You gotta nigga open
You came here with the heart to cheat
So you need to sing the song with me
All my ladies come on

Ashanti (fat joe)
When i look in your eyes there's no stopin' me
I want the don joey crack on top of me (uh-huh)
Don't want your stacks (yeah)
Just break my back (uh)
Gonna cut you no sack (whoo)
Cause i'm on it like that (uh, come on)
Come on (yeah, yeah, y'all) & put it (yeah, yeah, y'all) on me (put it on ya girl) on me (i'm put it on ya girl)

Chorus 2 times

(feat. busta rhymes, noreaga, remy martin)

[fat joe]
Ha, ha, ha, ha
Uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh
For my dirty, dirty
D.c. what?
Uh, yeah, uh, t.s.
Remix y'all

[remy martin]
Remix y'all

[fat joe]
Remix y'all

[remy martin]
The remix y'all

[fat joe]
Crack is back again (ooo-oooh)
Had to rip this track again (ooo-oooh)

[remy martin]
And when it's packed like the garden
You know it's the squadron

[fat joe]
The god, fat joe

[remy martin]
And that bitch, remy martin

[remy martin & r. kelly]
We thuggin'

[fat joe]
You know the rest
Got the tank top on that show the vest

[remy martin]
I know some chickens that be strippin' and they show they breasts
And they all think joe the best

[fat joe]
Well it's on if they got no regrets
Bring them hoes to the low crib by the lake on the coldest sect
I got chicks butt-naked feelin' no redress

[remy martin]
Okay, i'm on my way with a load of cess
But, i got four niggas in my truck

[fat joe]
And if you bring 'em to my crib, they gettin' fucked up

[remy martin]
I'ma sneak 'em in the back as soon as y'all drunk

[remy martin & fat joe]
We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh)

[r. kelly]
Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and
Off up in the club, wildin' like what
Got cris' on pop, henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop
Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause i got four hon-eys in the drop
And my man joe's got the keys to the spot
And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops
We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh)

[noreaga]
Ay, yo, twin ho days and we makin' it hot (say what?)
Numero uno on your billboard spot (what, nigga?)
Since the days of flow joe, we be makin' it hot
Before superthug, niggas sold crack on the block
You see, uh

[noreaga & r. kelly]
We thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and

[noreaga]
Niggas say they still in them bricks, but they wasn't
Me and big pun ran trains on mad cousins
Mami took an e and a half and three wasn't
And nigga, yeah, i'ma stay right here (ain't goin' nowhere)
It's thugged-out miller-tainment, and it's somethin' to fear
And i ain't got time for diss records (no time for that)
Catch me in the streets, and i'ma leave your muthafuckin' bitch naked
Fj 560, the five ride with me (we got honeys, y'all)
I got some mamis in the club wanna slide with me
Ho's at, i drunk 'nough y'all yay
Me and my joe, hennessey doubles and lattes (hey!)

[r. kelly]
Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and
Off up in the club, wildin' like what
Got cris' on pop, henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop
Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause i got four hon-eys in the drop
And my man joe's got the keys to the spot
And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops
We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh)

[busta rhymes]
In 2001, we move fast
I had to fuck a couple fat bitches all in they ass
Yes, i get busy and know and i do all i can (can)
Had to meet up with them terror squad niggas, my man (man)
Yeah, i see a couple of niggas that look real bugged
In the corner frontin' like a bunch of real, live thugs
Frontin', stackin' my ones and i'm countin' these figgas
Got a cooler bitch that's mo' thug than some of these niggas
Fuckin' me now, suckin' my ass late
Straight drinkin' the henny, sippin' with no chaser
When my bitches be thuggin' niggas that catch vapors
Lovin' how my bitches be givin' me paper
One by one, watchin' y'all niggas drop off
You wack niggas will feel when you hear my gun pop off
Get my rocks off, that's when i'm quick to knock your block off
And hold a gat when i'm fuckin' and never take my socks off

[r. kelly]
Yeah, we thuggin', rollin' on dubs, and
Off up in the club, wildin' like what
Got cris' on pop, henny wit no chaser, and mami don't stop
Throw it up, six o'clock, 'cause i got four hon-eys in the drop
And my man joe's got the keys to the spot
And it's full of honeys, panties with no tops
We take a puff of dro and be like (oo-oo-oooh)

Uh!bringin it back to the bx!
Wit my nigga fat joe, long side my nigga prospect
Holdin the bx down
Bronx burrough....terror sqaud

[verse 1-fat joe]
Yo, everybody talkin gats, really don't pack em
98% of these rapper's is all actor's
Stay frontin, like you wild and'll spray somethin
Come to find out, you ain't never slanged nothin
Think it's the game, gon lose the sport
I seen dude's get bruised through fort
Then choose the court, a new's report
They just pursed the court
If you even think of bustin, they ass'll sooth your thoughts
A damn shame, i'm from the streets where it's fair game
Nigga's will ift you off your feet wit the can-yan
Three in the chest and one in the part
For disrespect you, get left right in front of ya moms
Joe is the don, you clean, then show me your arm's
For these track's, i'ma fiend like a soldier in 'nam
Only the bronx will blow your ass outta ya lugz
Fuck love, here we believe in nothin but slugs

[chrous-prospect&fat joe]

[prospect]
Always you see him in the club frontin wit the ice grill....
[fat joe]
Be like, he's alright, but he's not real
[prospect]
Actin like he got a money, cause he never hold steel.....
[fat joe]
Be like, he's alright, but he's not real
[prospect]
Always see him wit bodyguards around like he kill
[fat joe]
Be like, he's alright, but he's not real
[prospect]
So if the feds after indictment's, we know he gon squeal....
[fat joe]
Be like, he's alright, but he's not real

[verse 2-prospect]
Yo, i squeeze of gats and spit facts when i breath on tracks
Got that hot shit, that make you ease on back
I'll make you leave the game like ma$e, and get ya name erased
Walk threw from place to place, and change the chase
I'm givin him terror, for the new millenium era
Automatic semi's wit the fully clip and the leather
Poppin champagne like we celebrating whatever
Switch to the chin, shoot top, hair and a feather
Versatile, walking threw the aisle, hurtin the crowd
Even got the god in the cloud, observing this style
He love the way i do this, leavin nigga's clueless
It's prospect, it's off wit ya head, you should've knew this
My twin????, cock and squeeze, we stoppin g's
You better follow up, these nigga's can't rock wit these
Straight up, i speak life threw the mic though
Sprayin the town, and layin it down like whoa!

[chrous-prospect,fat joe&remi martin]

[prospect]
Always see him in the club, frontin wit the ice grill....
[fat joe]
Be like, he's alright, but he's not real
[prospect]
Actin like he got a honey, cause he never hold steel...
[fat joe]
Be like, he's alright, but he's not real
[prospect]
Always see him wit bodyguards around like he kill
[fat joe]
He's alright, but he's not real
[prospect]
So if the feds after indictment, you know he gon sqeaul....
[remi martin]
Be like, she's alright, but she's not real

[verse 3-fat joe]
Yo, ayo i'm lookin for the perfect mami to ride wit me
Only wear she like to rock is 560
Swear to her mom's if it's on, she'll die wit me
Puff blunts, like to get high just like whitney
Thug type, "set it off", like jada
And this chick go both ways, don't hate her
Back in the block, they use to try to play her
Till the don out her to the qualities much greater
Net worth, put the tool in the skirt
Which you fools know about gettin head in reverse
About, clockin grips, and coppin whips
You muthafucker's stay frontin, stop poppin shit
Let's not forget, who be gettin robbed wit the choker
Man, i'm still rockin my same chains from "flow joe"
And you know joe stay wit tha mack
You hatin the fact, you can't do nathan to crack
Ya heard!!!

[chorus till fade]

*intro to prodigy's "keep it thoro"*

"oh y'all nigga's killa's now?"