Fat Joe

[fox69]

"Everybody Get Up"
(feat. Timbaland)

"Everybody Get Up"
(feat. Timbaland)



[Timbaland]
(Jump off) Timbo and Joey Crack about to FLIP!
Yeahhhhhh - FLIP!
Yeahhhhhh - FLIP!
Yeahhhhhh - FLIP!
Yeahhhhhh OH!

[Chorus 1: Fat Joe]
Get up, get get, get down
You ain't come to party muh'fucker just sit down
Get up, get up, get up, get up
Get up, get up, get up, get up

[Chorus 2: Fat Joe]
She's bad, she's bad, she's bad I know she's bad
Everybody GET UP!
Get up, get up, get up, get up
Get up, get up, get up, get up

[Fat Joe over Chorus 2]
Guess who's back?
Yeah, guess who's back?

[Fat Joe]
They call me Pillsbury Dough-bwoyyyy
Cause they know I really get that dough bwoyyyy
Dropped "Lean Back," it was so propers
Then I had to circle back with some mo' choppers
Mo' guns, mo' nines, whole lotta, money
Mo' Biggie sing it with me, "Mo' Problems"
Uhh, it's the BX finest, Cook Coke Crack
Baby please rewind this, and yeah I know I'm hot
You don't need to remind us, ladies!
"Your royal penis is clean, your highness"
Uhh, I can't do nuttin right these days
Got chicks mad at me cause I lost some weight
... Timbo and Coke
And we 'bout to haunt the town in the sky blue Ghost
New York! Damn I hate to brag and boast
But "I'm RICHHHH," Timbaland bring in the chorus

[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 1]
[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 1]
[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 2]

[Fat Joe]
You about to witness, greatness at it's prime
You should tape this
Matter fact, go 'head, congratulate us
Rucker, three-peat champ, see us Lakers (whattup Reem?)
Homey please don't hate us
She said that she was single, yo leave or make up - DAMN!
I'm out in L.A. within a week
Honies go to {?} from and they cut (aowwww)
V.A. is you wit me now
Couple bricks of that yay and it's Philly bound, feel me now
I'd rather die in prison, than to be a broke nigga
Live my life in the kitchen, into bakin pies
One of my addictions, on the mound
95 mile per hour pitches, volleyball servin 'em
The iron is itchin
To straighten any nigga out tryin to diss on... Crack

[Chorus 1]
[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 1]
[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 2]
[Chorus 2]

[Fat Joe]
She's bad like MJ's sister
I ain't gotta talk fast, give a day and I'll twist her
Ain't gotta be celebrity to get with me, shit
I fuck bitches that look worse than...
As long as they head right and ass fat
I put a pillow over they face and ass that - Crack
'Bout to cruise down your avenue
In the back of that Cad, think collateral
Ain't no tellin what this clip and the Mac'll do
Ask Timb, I got the beat by kidnappin Maganoo
In other words don't fool with us
Aiyyo Timbaland, tell 'em what to do

[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 1]
[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 1]
[Timbaland] Everybody get up!
[Chorus 2]

[Fat Joe] Crack!

 

[fox69]

"Fat Joe's In Town"

"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.."}

 

[fox69]

"Fight Club"
(feat. M.O.P., Petey Pablo)

"Fight Club"
(feat. M.O.P., Petey Pablo)



Ch-ch-ch-ch... Yeah
(Terror Squad.. First Family..)
AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (Yeah, hahahah!)
You see them diamonds gliserin off that three-quarterla (Hahaha)
Dat dem dere polyesther (Uh, nigga!)
Hahaha, ya heard me? (What the fuck, what the fuck, huh?!)
(Terror Squad... First Family...)
OH!, OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!)
OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!)

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, yeah uh
Yo it's that motherfuckin Bronx nigga Don shit
Run up in yo' mom's crib
Ship-stacked biddomb shit - gun up in the palm shit
Nobody moves, nobody get whacked with the contrict
Yo' shot at they concert, it's locked on the concrete
I'm Stone Cold, I mean I slap... then stomp...
Then what's to stop my .40 glock from rumblin your calm streets?
I'm troubled when I on deep, loco enough for dolo
Blow holes in ya carseat and roll over ya Rover
Fuck this role model shit I'm finna blow out ya wig
Bitch! Throw bottles to kid and get 'em thrown at ya crib
It's the return of the worst shit that ever happened
Reborn like what's crackin, we formed with raw plastic
Blastin off ya doors with an awful passion
Forcin the walls to crash in
You see them kids, I'll make 'em all bastards
Joey Crack - keep it gully
Known to clap - keep a fully
Automatic mack whodie on my lap - doin thirty
Drivin through the Heights tryna find these cats that did me dirty
Shot me on the Ave., now I gotta blast until them pearlies
We the realest niggaz ever touch the mic (BLAH!)
And we love to fight (BLAH!)
You heard my niggaz (ANTE UP!) give up the fuckin knife!

[Hook x2]
We gonna,
BREAK! - (BREAK!)
MASH! - (MASH!)
BRAWL! - (BRAWL!
CLASH! - (CLASH!)
Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass!!
GET YO' ASS UP NIGGA!
SHOW ME WHERE YOU AT!
GET YO' ASS UP NIGGA!
OPEN UP HIS BACK!

[Lil' Fame]
Yo who that husky-ass nigga with the flow so dumb
Comin up outta Brooklyn lookin like Mighty Joe Young
(FACE DOWN!) Know we real - got this motherfucker
crackin and buzzin with my Latin cousin Joey Grills
(WE INTERNATIONAL!) 151 proof
Letcha cold run loose, I give 'em a sunroof
For cotton-ass pretty boy talkin bout drama
With that nasty-ass Coogi suit, lookin like pajamas
(SOMEBODY GON' GET HURT TODAY!) So be it
We the First (First!) Fam (Family!) - You see it!
Put some trouble in ya voice homeboy, fore ya get whacked in
CALM (CALM!) DOWN (DOWN!) GET - BACK!

[Billy Danze]
For you niggaz that wanna trap me
I make families unhappy
I'm tied into the same shit as Boy George and Papi
(E'RYBODY KNOW!) Everybody wanna clap me
Tonight I'm with my Spanish homie Joey
so get at me with the ghetto issued .45, semi-automatic
I (SPIT) with intentions (TO RIP)
Put-put pieces out yo' cabbage bitch
Trained on the Hill, aim at niggaz faces
Push his hat back seven paces - leave him standin still
Cobra-ass nigga (Huh?!) You beg me to kill (Yeah!)
When I cock glocks and pop, you beg me to chill (Chill!)
(Y'ALL REMEMBER BILL!) Y'all remember the motherfuckin deal
You will get yo' ass zipped up, how this feel nigga?!!

[Hook x2]

[Petey Pablo]
Oh motherfucker uh-uh, y'all ain't seen nuttin yet
Got a call from the Bronx Best, bitch and I was right there
Duck tape, grip ply, havogee, turpentine
Two nickel nine, MacDonald, cup of richie wine
Wish a motherfucker would, look and he shall find
TEN MILLION WAYS TO DIE!
I'm the thickest of the fire
Ain't to many niggaz round with the rumble
With the rawest in the jungle, blicky BLOAW BLOAW!!
Bitch I break 'em down (DOWN) with Terror Squad now
Ya pretty bad, clumsy mouth, sit down - get up get out
Hottest thang they got in the south (Petey Pablo!)
If ya don't know now ya know - HOLLA AT 'EM JOE!
Fight club! - Fight club!
Fight club! - Fight club!
Fight club! - Fight club! HOLLA AT 'EM JOE!

[Hook x2]

Yeah, huh, yeah, huh?! (Hahaha)
First Family, Terror Squad....

 

[fox69]

"Find Out"
(feat. Armageddon)

"Find Out"
(feat. Armageddon)



[Armageddon]
Yeah yeah
Do you Don Cartagena
solemnly swear to take this game of hip-hop
as your lawfully wedded wife
through sickness and health, til death do you part?

[Fat Joe]
I do

[Armageddon]
Aight then
You now may spit on the bride

[Fat Joe]
I bet you thought I left you hangin, Joe Crack returns bangin
with somethin brand spankin, what the fuck was y'all thinkin?
Blow out your tweeters, have dinner with world leaders
Terror Squad so much they be cats with dark caesars
Fast cars and millimeters, gold cards and Visa's
Givin nonbelievers ways to fly with Jesus
Here's my thesis, enterprise break the block to pieces
Hustler and hard pool shark like Jack Gleason
The only reason I came back was for the platinum
With raps, ten times more deadly than saccharin
MC's be actin, I think somebody needs to slap em
Run up on em attack em, and ask em what's his passion
My love is rockin shows at the highest extremity
This star from Trinity got your mom sayin she's feelin me
Who's dealin ki's, that's peace, get your cheese, ?
Pump this masterpiece at the loudest degree

[Chorus: Fat Joe, Armageddon (repeat 2X)]
Let me find out (find out) niggaz is noddin out
Take some time out (time out) you wondered my whereabouts
The truth is I never left you, I kept my promise (what?)
Don Cartagena blessed you, now pay homage

[Fat Joe]
Yo fuck movin mountains, I move planets and you be Earthless
Terror Squad the worst that hurt shit, split you to verses
Joey Crack the world in half, Punisher punish em
til they lose the hopes and dreams they had
Then Armageddon finish em
Yo I'm bout as braze as Satan, no exaggeratin
My crew is radiatin, shinin while you playa-hation
Cartagena hit em like the Red Army invasion
Operatiion lace em show em what they facin, what?
I've been down since the days of Flash
when it was fun and laughs, before hip-hop was based on cash
Let's blaze a sack and concentrate on coke inflation
You know the biggest asses in United Nations
Fuck the Federation, general population is hibernatin
But bear witness to information that'll rock this nation
I'm not God, but indeed, my mind's relatin
Better act now, before your life is wasted
cause time is racin

[Chorus 2X]

[Armageddon]
Yeah, now do you hip-hop
take Don Cartagena, as your lawfully wedded husband
Now by the power invested in me, by me
I pronounce you husband and wife

[Fat Joe]
Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze
Heads beware, there's mad fear in the air
Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze
Knuckleheads beware, knuckleheads beware
Joey Crack, a.k.a. Kaiser Soze
Knuckleheads beware, there's mad tension in the air

 

[fox69]

"Flow Joe"

"Flow Joe"


[Fat Joe]
Ahhhhhhh yeah!
Da Fat Gangsta

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
You gotta flow Joe, you gotta flow Joe
You gotta gotta gotta gotta let em know Joe

[Fat Joe]
Bust it, check it, watch how I wreck it
Niggaz watch your back, shit is gettin hectic
I catch vibes like Count Basie, sucker won't face me
I'm so much flavor you can taste me
I'm underground like a gutter
You never catch me - stutter, everybody knows that I'm butter
I'm not the man with sensitivity
The name is Fat Joe, the label's Relativity, huh
I chop a rapper like a meat cleaver
I'm burnin hot, people think I have a fever, check it
If niggaz wanna front, then come widdit
If you're havin second thoughts, well then forget it, see
I dig in my crates, I don't per-pa-trates
I got shit sewn, like Billy Bathgate
Beware like Cocoa, yo I'm not a slow boat
Got so much dough I va-cate in Acapulco
Crazy as they come I'm not the one, we can do this
with the hands, or take it to the guns..
You know I can flow, the name is Fat Joe
I can flow, I can flow, I can flow

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, yeah
Everybody knows Fat Joe's in town
Nuff respect for the Boogie Down
I'm livin in the Bronx on an Ave called Trinity
My name rings bells, within the vicinity
Peace to the money makers always plottin mono
Together we gettin dough, just like Lucky Luciano
People always tell me, yo you're dope Joe
But I'm not a car, so I don't get gassed like Amoco
Never ate the paint, no I'm not a sucker
Never liked ? so to Hell with the Rucker
Always on my own never sweatin nobody
Warm up a crowd like a bottle of Bacardi
I can kick it this way, I can kick it thattaway
I kick a funky style, from New York to Piscataway
Suckers best scram
Now in ninety-three it's all about the Fat Man
Peace to Finesse, Showbiz and A.G.
Gizmo, Little Hec', and Kool Micskit (say what?)
My crew from Uptown
And if you mess around, then you'll catch a beatdown
See I got this in a smash
If a rapper steps up, he'll get smoked
like a blunt full of hash
My style of rap is legendary
Fuck with the man, then you'll end up in the cemetary
And that's word to Ma Duke
I never fake moves, I'll go out like a troop
So act like you know, the name is Fat Joe
I can flow, I can flow, I can flow

[Chorus]

[Fat Joe]
Yeah
See I rip the mic if you put me to a test
Troop it gets so bad, I make you wanna wear a vest
Cause I'm too hot to handle
Knockin niggaz out like ?Livingston Bramble?
Rappers come heavy, but yo I weigh a ton
I won't lose weight cause I'm not on the run
I'm on point like a sniper, hyper than the hyper
On the DL, overlooked by C-Cypher
Never get caught, I'm on top with my game
Flip a fat ride, there's no need for a train
Rappers come close, but they just can't make it
When it comes to the funk, you know I won't fake it
Peace to Serge, and my right hand Flex
And when I grab the mic nobody wants to rock next
The name is Fat Joe, cause Joe is livin Fat
Niggaz gettin jealous cause I got a contract
But I don't sweat it, I know the style is raw
You can't compare me to a cornball
And you know I kick game like a hottie
Now in ninety-three, they should free John Gotti
If you step, battle and I'm gonna mash your toes
You know I got the flow

[Chorus 1.5X]

 

[fox69]

"Gangsta"

"Gangsta"


[Intro: Fat Joe]
Ollie ollie oxen free!
Like one, two, three
Red light, green light, one, two, three
Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes
Pitch the ball I'ma smack that shit
Yeah, ohhhhhh, going.. going
Yeah yeah what up son?
Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like..
Nah, I ain't got no bullets
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Top two for five, three for five, we rollin!

[Fat Joe]
Now I'm in too deep
Only sixteen already hold a name in the street
Makin the fifth scream, rockin older niggas to sleep
Make a fiend strip naked cuz he owed for a week
Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies
Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise
Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide
Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died
Young and not givin a fuck
There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em shit outta luck
I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots
Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot
Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw
Stacks of money on the bed and the floor
It wasn't long til I did what he did
I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived
I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks
On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit
I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me
I earned my spot, my whole team elected me

[Chorus: children singing]
Gangsta, gangsta
I wanna be a gangsta
My daddy was a gangsta
Gangsta, gangsta
I wanna be a gangsta
My daddy was a gangsta

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, unh, yo, unh
Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing
But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again
She started out fuckin dudes that resembled her father
Mom knew shoulda schooled her but the bitch didn't bother
You couldn't blame her cuz she got it from her
She was a rider from jump, her pop's died in the hands of a chump
Now she's mad at the world, no more daddy's little girl
Now she's rockin bandanas, no more Shirley Temple girl
Now she be runnin wit some scramblers that be down in Alabama
Packin twin hammers, screamin "Life doesn't matter"
It's a vicious cycle, her game is pretending to like you
Thinkin you getting head but she's just duckin so they can snipe you
Movin from state to state, runnin everything from guns to trains
and pushing packs from eight to eight
You know I can't say her name but she was a looker
Pretty thing, such a shame how this life has took her
Now she's raising hell in the cell, no more his are hollering
You might suffer the same fate if you repeat the following..
Sell drugs, use drugs, get caught up in the mix
End up locked up or dead in a casket, that's it

[Chorus]

 

[fox69]

"Get It For Life"
(feat. Pooh Bear)

"Get It For Life"
(feat. Pooh Bear)



My word on everything, I mean everything
We will never stop, I mean never
Nigga we da best

I'm a get it for life
Get it for us, get it for love, I'm a keep it alive (yeah, yeah) oh yeah (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life (Get it for life)
Get it for you, get it for me, get it tonight (yeah, yeah)
I'm a sacrifice (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life

(Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack crack ca-crack crack)
Nigga was ain't never stoppin, nigga we da best

Coca, niggas call me crack in the flesh
Run up on a nigga with a mac'in adress
Hear dat rip through his vest
If you ain't got sticks well you better invest (yes)
A nigga used to dream of that water blue
Now I swapped out for sumtin with killer view
Fresh off the block doin interviews
You can still see the coke on my linen suit
I'm a don, change twice a day
I do it for the love when there's so much hate
Straight out the court room, million dollar bail
Back to the spot, got a million dollar sale

I'm a get it for life
Get it for us, get it for love, I'm a keep it alive (yeah, yeah) oh yeah (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life (Get it for life)
Get it for you, get it for me, get it tonight (yeah, yeah)
I'm a sacrifice (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life

(Crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack crack ca-crack crack)
Nigga was ain't never stoppin, nigga we da best

I'm a get it for life
So much money I'm sittin on mill's
My mansion, bottom of the Poo set scrills
200 over on the Phantom, drop that 650

Sky blue suit with the bow-tie
Yeah
I make it rain with dollars
Had you leanin back till you popped your collar
Mo money (mo money), let's get it (let's get it)
We da best (we da best), I said it (I said it)
Yeah nigga, welcome to the Crackhouse
I do it for my niggas in the prison, supa mac style

I'm a get it for life
Get it for us, get it for love, I'm a keep it alive (yeah, yeah) oh yeah (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life (Get it for life)
Get it for you, get it for me, get it tonight (yeah, yeah)
I'm a sacrifice (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life

Nigga was ain't never stoppin, nigga we da best

(Yeah, I'm gon get it
I'm gon get it for you, I'm a get it for me, I'm a get it for us
I does this for the streets
16 runnin tha Carter, 17 beamers and benz's
Multi-millions nigga, yeah let's get it ho)

Only serious nigger to do this shit like Pun did it
I said it, I get it, I'm done with it
Y'all niggas is gettin on, I've been shittin
Hundred grand in one night in Sin City
I've been spittin, been rippin to any beat
Big L, Fat Joe, the enemy
Y'all niggas keep lyin 'bout Tennekey
If you really want Crack, come get at me

I'm a get it for life
Get it for us, get it for love, I'm a keep it alive (yeah, yeah) oh yeah (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life (Get it for life)
Get it for you, get it for me, get it tonight (yeah, yeah)
I'm a sacrifice (yeah, yeah)
I'm a get it for life

Nigga was ain't never stoppin, nigga we da best

 

[fox69]

"Get It Poppin'"
(feat. Nelly)

"Get It Poppin'"
(feat. Nelly)



[Fat Joe]
Crack! Yeah, Scott Storch y'all
Dirty, Crack! C'mon

[Chorus One: Nelly]
It's two up in the mornin girl, and the DJ playin that song
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
I said it's two up in the mornin girl, and the DJ playin that song
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)

[Fat Joe]
I got that plat no limit American Express card
Mami you can get whatever you like
Plus I got that all-black Phantom it's tinted on four sides
Go 'head kiss it, they can't see us inside
Mami tell me do you like - it, I know you like - it
It's written all over your face don't fight - it
You like - it, more than I like - it
So put it all over your face don't bite - it
From rags to riches, club packed with bitches
Had to bag them digits, her head game was vicious (muah)
And we can get it poppin in the bathroom
Don't be selfish ma, go ahead and pass it to him
Then we can all fuck
It's like a million on my neck, got all of these bitches all struck
Aowww! We pissy drunk off of Seraphim
I'm up in V.I.P. and these bitches are screamin let me in

[Nelly]
Uh, uh, uh, uh

[Chorus Two: Nelly]
It's two up in the mornin girl, and the DJ playin that song
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
It's two up in the mornin now, and I'm tryin to go home wit'chu
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)

[Fat Joe]
Ha ha, yeah, uhh, yo, uh
Get it poppin, go 'head and drop it
It's written all over your face, don't stop it
Just drop it, more like it's hot miss
Kick in the do' with the fo-fo messin with Joe
Now this chick got an ass so fat in fact I
put a drink on it and I came right back
She would never talk to a lame like that
In my ear screamin how you got a name like Crack
Crack - similar to Mike Jones
Say my name enough, then I'm takin you home
Aowwwwww! You know I walk with I talk with
I sleep with the chrome, one squeeze and you're gone
What I look like, not takin at least
three to six women out the club with me
Now we back to the fuck pad, call it the fuck pad
Cause all these bitches fuckin with me, talk to 'em dirty

[Nelly]
Uh, uh, uh, uh

[Chorus Three: Nelly, Fat Joe]
It's two up in the mornin girl, and the DJ playin that song
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)

Well it's two up in the mornin and, them niggaz try'n hate on your crew
Nigga what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Yeah what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)

[Fat Joe]
Now when them doors swing open with that awkward motion
What'chu call it - suicide, it's a suicide
And if them niggaz talk shit cause they drunk off that potion
They commitin - suicide, it's a suicide
Let's get it poppin my niggaz (Cook, yo)
I got a shotty my niggaz (oh, Lord)
I feel sorry for your mudda, give a fuck what you say
Spin your head back, promote you on a videotape

[Chorus Four: Nelly]
It's two up in the mornin girl, and the DJ playin that song
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
Now what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
It's four up in the mornin now, and I'm tryin to go home wit'chu
Girl what'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
What'chu gon' do? (I'ma get get get it poppin)
C'mon

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, it's Crack! (What'chu gon' do)
Cafe Martorano, all my people in there partyin
All the party people across the world
Ladies, "Things of that Nature"
Aowwww!

 

[fox69]

"Get On Up"

"Get On Up"


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

"Get on up" "Get on up!" [Repeat 4x]

 

[fox69]

"Get The Hell On With That"
(feat. Armageddon, Ludacris)

"Get The Hell On With That"
(feat. Armageddon, Ludacris)



[Fat Joe]
Whoa, whoa, whoa
All you frontin-ass niggaz
Callin all frontin-ass bitches, hahahaha!
Yo, get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?)
Get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?)
Yo, yo, yo, yo

Why you over there lookin at me, while my girl standin there?
These bitches actin like they never seen a millionaire
Feel my pockets, wanna really get your hands in there
Now what it be like?
You confused man, that shit don't even seem right
How you cats on your album only three mics?
Like 'Pac shit is funny to me
All you niggaz livin bummy wasn't fuckin with me
Now nigga get it on, soon you be dead and gone
Shorty got a bubble all she need the silicone
Love my A-T-L bitches, pay my bail bitches
Type to let you fuck but never tell bitches
Down-ass hoes that'll grind that dough
Catch me with another chick and beat 'em down to a pulp
It's the F-A-T, to the, J-O-E
Drink Cris' with the Feds when they come for me
No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G
Number one with a slug, what you expect from me, huh?
Are you serious?

[Chorus: Fat Joe]
If you see a nigga frontin fake shit on his wrist
Walk around all night, same bottle of Cris'
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
If you see a bitch frontin in her best friend's clothes
New sass weave and fucked up toes
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?

[Armageddon]
Now all my ladies put your hands up
Nah mami, if you fuck for dough then you's a hoe
And no I'm not the one that don't drop the notes
I only ice the beef and rock the coat
Think you gettin somethin from me your thoughts are broke
Might get a little wheeze and a salty throat
So get the hell on with that, don't you even feel it
Get the hell on with that, I'm aight I'm chillin
Chicken neck-ass bitch tryna palm the dough
Should've charged me at the door, I woulda let you know
Coulda saved you a mouth full of head y mo'
Coulda made you a thug from the guy with the mo'
But yo, I ain't never met a chick that was innocent
They all fuck some, eat some, never kiss
I know a lot that got skeed on and that was it
See me in the video like, "Bitch is suckin dick!"

[Chorus: Fat Joe]
You let him in at one time cause you thought he was fly
Now you see him at the clubs, he don't pay you no mind
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Yo, every time you smoke, dude puff your 'dro
But when it's time to go cop, he ain't got no dough
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?

[Ludacris]
Ludacris be the number one street - clown wishin 'em luck
Cause I'm bout to make 'em break a leg thinkin I'm givin a FUCK
And you catch a beat - down, bottles is breakin, craniums crack
Chairs thrown when the heat is attacked
and you hear the street - sound, hitters and runners
Killers and gunners, winter to summer the niggaz that want us
are headed East - bound, trouble in West other than South
Cover your chest, they cover your mouth
I'm goin deep - down Dirty indeed, birdies in need
Thirty degrees and you heard it from me
but I'm bout to reach - 'round grabbin my gun
They scatter and run but I'm handlin and havin some fun
They gotta keep - rounds up under the bed, up under the spread
If it ain't then it ain't, no wonder you dead
So go to sleep - now, throats is splitted
and folks that get it they gotta get the hell on widdit, BIATCH

[Chorus: Fat Joe]
Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim thug like they're the type
But when it's time to go to war they runnin for dear life
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Got this clown runnin around like he's my fam
We did time in what joint? I don't know you man!
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, haha, T.S., Terror
Get the hell on with that, get the hell on with that
Yeah, Charlie Rock L.D., uhh
Ton' Montana rest in peace, 2001
Get the hell on with that, get the hell on with that
Yeah..