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Intro - guy talking
Aiyyo Joe man whats good man
Aiyyo I hear poppin s**t
They runnin off to the Jakes man
They talkin like you ain't hood nigg*
What's really gangsta nigg*
What up what's poppin man
Aiyyo fk these man
Let these do 88
Fat Joe
(yeah uh what uh yo yo)
Migga tryin to change the Ragine, I won't have that
Step in the club in Manhat at
And it feel like sat down, Jose the flow is cocaine
even got the nerve tryin to clone the name
It's the kid wit a thousand aliases, the hood knows
s**t nowadays got callin me cooked coke
I rise to the to the top and I lay it down quite flat
You can battle me up and get your money right back
Crack clap wit the fo' kid
The newspaper s**t
Known for crackin jaws
And I don't go to court, I talk wit the hawk
Have a forensics specialist outline your corks
About time we fought man
I'm tired of this rumor s**t, ya whole life's a lie
Let you slide but you ruin it, we the guys doin it
You only pretend
Shoot the place to merk off in my loyalty rims
nigg* what
guy talking
Yeah yeah thats whats up my nigg*
I see these ain't fkin wit you though
But what's up wit these though man
these is ridin around in fkin benzes and s**t
Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts
Yea man show these what your 1's like man
What's up
Fat Joe
I gets duece 5 a show, do 5 a week
Let y'all do the math, that's aight for me
s**t never claim to be the richest but the truth is
Livest nigg* you've ever seen in show biz
And you know this, notice the dime is poppin
Hold the masterpiece watch the Don be coppin
I'm like Gunny from Dead Pres'
Put the gun in your mouth and tell you how lucky you are to break bread
I'm tired of sonnin that don't believe us
I'm at ya life savers alone wit my sneakers
I went from humble beginners to ownin the Jimmy's
fkin wit women that only want me for winnin
Only for homey sittin, scuse me but don't be s**ttin
I'm only bonin the b*tch is if y'all could be gettin
nigg* what!!
guy talking
Yeah that's what's up Crack
But what's up wit that b*tch when she gonna drop yo
What's up wit Remy man
Where that b*tch at man
Yeah man
Everytime I look around man I don't see no Remy man
in the hood want you to call this b*tch out man
What's up man
Remy Martin
Yo I don't give a fk
I don't play that s**t
and I feel to bust a cap on a nigg*
I run up wit a gat on a nigg*
c*ck back on a nigg*
Like Rem's that b*tch and Crack's that nigg*
For every word I spit I get as* cat figures
So fk as* clappin, I'll clap yo as* nigg*
And chick is so funny cause I gets gully
Rocks throwbacks and fitteds nigg*, hoodies and skullies
Am I fist is a pack on my wrist is a Jacob
And I gotta a "mac" and I don't mean make up
Sellin pies on da block like, I sell aranathum
Do you want it raw? Or do want me to bake em?
Get the bag it cut it shop it fk it it's mothin
Got the product the power and the will to do the hustle
s**t it's sicker than vomit, I swear to God it's disgustin
Hot an' fresh out the kitchen so these girls can't touch it
You gotta love it I'm buggin word to my cousin Tequila
Slap the s**t outta any b*tch interferin wit my scrilla
See a nigg* he can get it too, fk what your d*ck a do
Even if I stuttered I will still "shi shi s**t on you"
My nigg* L.V.