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"Born In The Ghetto"
(feat. Lamajic)

"Born In The Ghetto"
(feat. Lamajic)

[Intro - Fat Joe - Lamajic talks & harmonizes in background]
Yeah, it's time baby
It's time to speak the truth, maturity
Huh, niggas gotta evolve to let niggas know the real
Ya call yourself real, ya gotta start speakin about the real
This is Joe Crack The Don, and this is what I'm bringin to you

[Fat Joe]
Uh, yo, nowadays, I'm flirtin with uncertain death
Lord I gotta be dyin, cause after all this cryin, how much more hurtin's left?
When will the pain stop?
This depression and anxiety, is gonna make me show another side of me
My niggas ride with me cause I'm the truth
There's benefits to rollin with this clique, don't nobody fuck with you
Still they label me a tyrant and a backstabber
But study the facts of crack, the shit don't add up
I'm bringin opportunity to my community
Probably the only rapper that cares, but still you out to ruin me
Who you foolin B? I'm for unity, latins and blacks
Could you fathom the strength, we have of the two it attach
Born together, voted alike
These uncle charm politicians ain't holdin us right
How could the same nigga be 20 years in office
When it's clear the only thing that's risin is unemployment
Abortion, little kids havin kids
The school system is failing us, now ain't that some shit
While the rich keep gettin richer, the poor keep dyin young
I can't hide no more, the time has come

[Chorus - Lajamic - w/ ad libs]
I was born in the ghetto
Tremblin, tryin' a stay alive
Cause when you're born in the ghetto
No one seems to hear your cry

[Fat Joe]
Brown skin, you know I love my bra-ha-own skin

Everyday I'm confronted with racism
These motherfuckin coppers, wanna bag us and have us shackled up in state prisons
After all the taxes I pay
You would think when they stop us, they would have something nicer to say
Than "get the fuck out the car, where the drugs at?
all the jewelry you wearin, where the fuckin guns at?"
Once they search the car clean and find nothin
The same crooked cops try to act like they know us or somethin
Laughin, tellin jokes by the thousands
Two seconds ago they tried to send us to the mountains
Leave my son without a father, my wife without a husband
The more I think about it, man it's just disgusting
Still we live amongst 'em, everybody wants out
That's why we rap like we got silver spoons in our mouths
Like we ain't grow up on welfare
Nigga don't even go there, you probably wore Pro Players
We need to educate the youth, tell our seeds the truth
Too much to share, the bare minimum will exceed the proof


[Lajamic - singing until fade]
Oh, yeah, so much pain
Tryin hard to stay alive, stay alive
Out in these streets, oooh [harmonizing]
Man sometimes in can get so tough
Oh yeah, yes it can
Yes it can, yeah
It can get so hard, so hard, so hard
"Breathe And Stop"
(feat. The Game)

"Breathe And Stop"
(feat. The Game)

Help, Help, Help, Help (Yeah)
Help (It's the Profit, It's the profit)
Help (East coast, West coast)
Help (Cook, cook, cook - Crack)
Help (Latino Market)
Help (You know we got that shit on smash)
Help (You writing them checks, go holla at my boy Damon)

All my niggaz throw your Dubs up
If you ain't from the west side put your guns up
Let a shot go Nigga
Squeeze and Pop
Let 'em feel it when the baseline drops

And all bitches throw your hands up
You in the club with your girls
Call your man up
Cause you ain't comin' home Mami
Breathe and stop
Exhale when the baseline drop

[1st Verse]
Ay yo its murder on the streets
Killa capitol
I'm blasting you
For the love of this doe
That's what I have to do
I'm posted up
The corner King
They named me Coca
Got caught didn't say a thing
You're not supposed ta
La Costra Nostre
Gotti Gang
My shotty rang
Call it a killers exhibition
Let the body hang
A real work of art
Show your heart
I'll blow your smarts
Yeah It's the ghetto god
Rep the Bronx till I'm gone
Was sent to prison
You know me homey the chromey's itchin'
Leave you holy if you rollin' with some bad intentions
Fit the pussy
Then again you know that
And we don't ever see them in the hood
And they all rats
Joey don't give a fuck
Tell my nigga hold that
Usually found in the kitchen
Where the stove at
Got that weed, got that coke
Get them dope sacks
My little man pitchin'
Yeah we call him Sandy Cossacks


[2nd Verse]
Lord of war
You need a hammer
I'll sell you guns
Sell coke to Pablo
Sell grammar to pun
Stop searching niggaz
I am the one
Pepper spray gangsta's
Show you how the iron is slung
Now I could play like Kanye and let me chest hairs show
Put on them Kool Moe Dee glasses
But that just ain't Joe
Play shots and then I switch up the flow
Like what the blood clot, Boomba clot
You ain't fuckin wit Joe

Now Mamma love me
Her friend hates me
Jealous cause they boyfriends ain't me
We getting at baby love
Yeah we pain free
Ain't nobody's pockets certain, here
We paid G's
Now listen up
You in love with a stripper
I fuck her and dis her
I give her that mayo
You come and you kiss her
Nigga, Crack been a G ever since
Sit back and watch the money get bricks
Mo' fucker

"Bronx Keeps Creating It"

"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}]
"Bronx Tale"
(feat. KRS-One)

"Bronx Tale"
(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

"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!)


[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
"Bust At You"
(feat. Scarface, Baby)

"Bust At You"
(feat. Scarface, Baby)

Excuse me while I sing to you
I'm being real and that's the thing to do
I'm just living and loving
Smoking and fucking (Yeah uh)
Out here on the grind, yeah (Alchemist this beat is stupid dope fresh)
If I can't get no love then I can touch you
(Shit is fly, throw back ya heard me)

I'd rather touch you, yeah
(We ridin' on these niggas come on)
'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Yeah, Terror Squad)
I'd rather touch you, yeah (It's goin' down my niggas)
(Stunna, Face, Joe Crack the Don)
'Stead I'd rather bust at you

[Fat Joe]
You motherfuckers must be crazy
I been doin' this shit since the eighties
Run up in yo crib, snatch ya baby baby-baby
It's the kid still holdin' the crown
Now that they give it I'm holdin' a pound
And I'm lookin' for some bustas who be actin' like them niggas do dirt
Come to find out they ain't put in no work
An now my feelings is hurt
Cause they decided that they wanted to murk
But I'ma chase 'em to the end of the Earth
Cause I'm a motherfuckin' rider
You can see the pain in my face
Got no problem exchangin' the hate
They got me fightin' a case
And if I blow will I face a fifteen
And I'll probably do it all in the pen
But yo I'm livin' with it
Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride
A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride ha ha ha
Death before dishonor for my niggas that ride
A thousand deaths if ya sellin' ya pride
You motherfuckers need to know that

I'd rather touch you, yeah
'Stead I'd rather bust at you
I'd rather touch you, yeah
'Stead I'd rather bust at you

Hey Joe
We gon' ball like dogs but keep it gangsta nigga
I'm a guerilla on the streets but it's time for the fun time
Out of line, I bust with my tech nine
Choose ya loose, I give ya the blues
Ol' pussy ass nigga with his pussy ass crews
It's the murder man mack, I stash in the Lac
I bought my bricks from these dro back stacks
It's the Birdman baby come and holla at me later
Duck ass niggas, we deal with 'em later
First you, go to the mall and you ball like a dog
And we drop the car, then holla at ya boy
Tell them pussy ass niggas, break bread with the boy
Joe, they breakin' bread with the boy
Tell Big Pun nigga, Stunna ride for the boy
Win or lose I ride for my boy
It's the B-M gangsta, the D-Boy Click
We mash on bustas and we flip these bricks nigga

I'd rather touch you, yeah
'Stead I'd rather bust at you
I'd rather touch you, yeah
'Stead I'd rather bust at you

Niggas tell me money talk
But bullshit is walkin' out on four feet
That's why I'm ridin' on ya whole street
I'll be a nigga till it's said and done
I'm from a section where ya fight till ya die cause ya never run
I keep my forty cal cocked cause these niggas on my block bang
Right up the street from where the cops hang
And in my head I hear Pac sang
And then them rushin' memories make me cry till I can't stop man
Tell my mama I'm a killer if I happen to die
That's how I lived, ain't no sense in me lyin'
My whole life's filled with danger
Never been a stranger to homicide
My neighborhood's full of gangstas and drive-bys
And niggas fightin' for position
The demon has risen from out of prison
Now I'm losin' my religion
That's how I'm feeling when I'm fuckin' with you
Cause I don't fuck with you, now I'm bustin' at you
So fuck you dude

I'd rather touch you, yeah (Terror Squad, Facemob uh)
'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Cash Money Millionaires uh come on)
I'd rather touch you, yeah (My tech, my mack)
'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Lick my uzi straight like that)
I'd rather touch you, yeah (My tech, my mack)
'Stead I'd rather bust at you (Lick my uzi straight like that)

[Scarface talking]
Dedicated to my homeboy Pac
Love daddy
Facemob in the house
Fat Joe and it don't stop
Come on
(feat. Jackie Rubio)

(feat. Jackie Rubio)

Yeah, uh, as we proceed to give you what you need
Come on
Coca baby youh know it's me; coca baby youh know it's me
Got trees got weed, pop e, cool d
(come on)coca baby youh know it's me; coca baby youh kno it's me

[Fat Joe:]
I don't give a fuck; I don't give a fuck xxxx never gave a fuck but I hit em up
(come on) coca baby youh kno it's me; bx ts till I d-I-e
New york new york xxxx that's all me
Name another niggah with a flow like me
So sick I swear it's h-I-p put it on 5th left eye c
Flamin I kno all about the hotter claimin
Pavement that's where I'm hidinq all the payments
Davis I get it poppin like larry
Badly I just wanna run up in ya family
Coca baby youh know it's me
Got knives, got text, got max, got weed
Mister enuff would you bump mah shit
Funk master flex would youh bump mah shit
I do it for the niqqahs that be banging them shits
Bumping those bricks talking mah shit
Uh oh uh oh anotha niqqah got hit
Uh oh uh oh anotha niqqah bout to snitch

As we proceed to give you what you need
Come on
Coca baby youh know it's me; coca baby youh know it's me
Got trees got weed, pop e, cool d
(come on) coca baby youh know it's me; coca baby youh kno it's me

[Fat joe:]
New york time to re-up
(feat. Rico Love & T.A.)

(feat. Rico Love & T.A.)

[Intro: Fat Joe]
Ho! Yeah
I can make you famous, ow!
We live from Zip's in Harlem tonight
Two in the mornin (c'mon) Krillz!
Yeah, yo, yo

[Fat Joe]
He thinks he's A, she thinks she's VA
Singin in the mirror they think it's ea-sy
Blue Lamborghini cause you heard Jeezy
Yeah your +Block Is Hot+ but you're not Weezy
First class flights, star for a night
Be like Russell, have a model for a wife
See Lorraine Schwartz, go and cop some ice
Hey! Even if you're dumb, you'll still be bright
Yeah, the red carpet, flashin lights
Joan Rivers, shake face lookin extra tight
Urbane leisure, lookin next and right
And let me guess, man you probably havin sex tonight
And you probably gon' give a rapper head tonight
And when your dress come off he see the cellulite
Then off you go, let the trumpets blow
Spotlight is off ya it's the end of the show (y'know)

[Chorus - sung]
Everybody wants to be famous
But the famous wants more to be left alone
Cause no one really wants to go through these changes
Paparazzi snappin pictures at your home
Congratulations (woo) baby you're a star
(You hear that baby? You're a star, hahaha)
Congratulations - the world knows who you are
(The world knows you, at least for today)

Yo, yo

I wanna be like Diddy, I wanna run my city
A Billboard in Times Square, see that's me, yeah
Best rap album what I'm shootin for every year
Pick a place player my name is heavy there
It's groupies everywhere and they all want me
Even the young ones so I need ID
Still ride hat low two-deep in a two-seat
When I flow through don't ever try to confuse me
I ain't tryin to be rude so excuse me
Watch me two step in my brand new Louis'
Bounce, bounce bounce on the track
Every girl wanna know when T.A. comin back
I'm famous, I made it, successful
Now I'm less stressful, only eat the best food
If you work hard enough your dreams'll come true
A star could be me or a star could be you


[Rico Love]
Yo, too easy y'all, hahaha
Yo, hahaha

As we said I ain't a boss to not be lyin
Now why you bitches labels got me drivin{?}
Nigga I'm in orbit, ball a whole bunch
You call that mortgage, I call that lunch
And I'm so gorgeous, your wife might hunch
And I ain't even gotta spike her punch
Won't lose the end even if I lose a friend
Pen the big hits, I don't even use a pen
Hehe, I'm like Luther and them
I cheese hard, now they wanna shoot through my grin
... but I got bulletproof cheeks
Bust off on her like she got bulletproof sheets
Ask B, rope for us
Peep the fee, boats are plush
And maybe I spoke too much
But if you want to win you gotta go through us

"Crush Tonight"
(feat. Ginuwine)

"Crush Tonight"
(feat. Ginuwine)

[1 - Ginuwine]
Baby, if you wit' it, just clap yo' hands
Stop playin' girl, back that ass up and
Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and
Freak that girl like you tryna have a baby cuz

Everybody's out to fuck tonight
The fine women, they out to fuck tonight
My niggas, they down to fuck tonight
Ladies, fellas, the won't stop players

[Fat Joe]
Came through the door, seen it before
Hands touchin' the ceiling, booty streakin' the floor
You ever felt good to the point you so sure that
All the attention in the club is yours
Got your hair done up, shades Christian Dior
Leave us, trade a little happy on your Vickey draws
Gettin' your dance on hard, who could wish for more
And your crew's all but know it's a horse
Got the Don all warm and it ain't the Hen'
Feelin' like the Don woman, you could wrestle her chin
Shorty, come a little closer while the record spin
I wanna freak a little longer, can they play it again

[Repeat 1]

Yo, got my mind on my money, money on my mind
And to let you know, you just as good as gold
It's like we got our own little private party goin' on
And the scene just changed into shores of San Juan
It's so intimate, we so into it
Such a tender thing, but fuck I'm innocent
Grindin' so hard you gotta know what I'm thinkin'
Laughin' cuz I'mma kidnap you for the weekend
Now we at the pad about to crack a case
Playin' the couch like Ceasar's, she feedin' me grapes
Not for nuttin' hon, the sex is great
But you know you got to go, I got checks to chase... next

[Repeat 1]

If you're wit' it grab your friends, follow Joe and me
Cuz it's on, it's on
Went in and got the Cris' and a pound of weed
It's on, it's on

[Fat Joe]
Now mami, let's get serious, cuz by the looks of it
It seems your sexuality is just a little curious
You got a friend, we could gather then split
If not, I got a girl for every girl I get
There's a drop in the lot and it whip so fast
We hit the swiss hotel before you finish your glass
And you know you wanna be where the cake is at
Where the pockets just like calories, extra fat
Mami, your body like Malery on Natural Born Killer
She like, they got money but ya'll are more realer
She wanna roll wit' us, pretty much to crit' us
No beatin' around the bush, just beatin' it 'till you bit us

[Repeat 1]
(feat. Benisour)

(feat. Benisour)

Hey yo Shyke, we don't give a fuck about that recession

Bitch I'm on the grind movin' 'em cupcakes (cupcakes)
Man bust open that duct tape
I'm ah show ya how to do a thang wit ah (beam wit ah)
Show ya how to run a team wit ah
Bitch I'm on the grind movin' them cupcakes (cupcakes)
Man bust open that duct tape
Nigga let me show you how to work that (work that)
Drop it in the water watch it double back

I got that white bitch (white bitch) color it you raise
The best in the kitchen have you niggas scrappin' plates
Got that hard shit the soft shit anyway you want it
Got that Mac if they talk shit don't nobody want it
With the G to the O to the D of the ghetto yeah we stays on that rock shit
Packing heavy metal
Got the beast (beast) I ain't talking 'bout no treble
I am a menace to society a mothafuckin' rebel
Yeah she's askin' for the scissors but I hit it from the back
Yeah she cost me hugs and kisses but you could just call me crack
Got them dulies wit me niggas and them flags is off black
Couple cuffies in the duffies and we headed for the track (bitch!)


Spoken a new rocks in the kitchen workin' two pots
Tell 'em supper's ready time to feed the block
Got 'em cupcakes movin' like clockwork
West sittin' on 67 1 vert
Grippin' grain ridin' wit 'em cupcakes
Young green ass niggas don't touch weight
750 ya cup that's what it's goin' fo'
White girl on deck do you know it brah?
And I can introduce you to a brotha too
And he'd have you ridin' in that purple coupe
Put a five on him man see what he do
Unless you be a nutty greedy mahfucka you


Cupcakes! (Cupcakes!), yeah who want them cupcakes?
Got 'em for the low watch me bust open that duct tape
Want a Little Debby we call that bitch jailbait
And need a whole key well that's called bail cake
A thousand of the butter watch it spread through the hood
If you get it how I get it you be shittin' if you could
Watch you niggas (?) yeah we jump a lead it
Throw our money at the sun screamin' how we net it
With my Palm Beach niggas Shyke on the track
This is slow flow killah like a knife in your back
Yeah I'm nice with the raps nicer in the kitchen
Tell the judge suck my dick I'ma serve him in the prison (bitch!)


Yeah Benisour we don't see no recession nigga!
Every time you see me clean nigga
my sneakers clean they sit
my love is clean
my top is off the bitches clean
them dimes is clean
lot of ya’ll fuck niggas be havin’...
"Da Fat Gangsta"

"Da Fat Gangsta"

[Fat Joe]
Yeah.. uh-huh..
Chill.. hah, yeah..

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