Fat Joe - Fat Joe's In Town Lyrics
{*dj cuts guess whos back? *}[fat joe]Yeah..The fat gangsta..Here comes the nigga from the eastWho just been crowned for most hated by policeThe public enemy, rapper at largeWhos known throughout the industry for pullin niggaz cardsYou know the situation, zulu nationNever forget the bronx because the bronx the foundationFat joe, a.k.a. joey crackNiggaz be like hes fat, *****es be like hes all thatMother*****ers know my rep, I never frontedNiggaz be talkin mad shit, but they dont want itIts the realer mc, the drug dealer mcIf a nigga fake jax, Im gonna kill a mcYeah, you cant handle the truth***** around and get thrown off the project roofMad lives have been lost and forgottenNiggaz better watch they back, the big apples gone rottenMicrophone check, one two one twoShouts to the east and the west coast crewWhatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true{thats all I ask of you..}When I step in the jam all eyes are on meSold out crowds, with curiosityEverybody wants to know, could the man still flip it?Microphone gifted, unrealisticComin with the bomb bass for the underground headsFlex got the most, serge got the landspreadKeepin shit real, niggaz know the dealJust through trial and comin down on appealMicrophone joe I own it, *****es wanna bone itBlowin out the tweeters in your musical componentIts your man fat joe, oh, is that so?You remember me from, you know ya got to flowOne time for your mind off the top of a domeNever leave for home without the mother*****in chromeWord to tone, big daddy, I know hes chillinPeace to all the villains out of state makin millions cause ahMicrophone check, one two one twoShouts to the east and the west coast crewWhatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true{thats all I ask of you..}Microphone check, one two one twoShouts to the east and the west coast crewWhatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true{thats all I ask of you..}From the bronx to queensbridge, on back to redhookNever lost a gram on any eighth that I cookedFat joe, army fatigue and black chuckersHardcore lyrics to all my real mother*****ersIm tryin to see cream, in the millions, retireAnd go play golf with russell simmonsThats the type of mission that Im onAiyyo my word is bond, I keep a army just as deep as farrakhanYou.. cant.. deal with the manWho be holdin down the fort with the gauge in his handI know you love the way I grab the mic and spark itYou hookersll never get your hands inside my pocketsMicrophone check, one two one twoShouts to the east and the west coast crewWhatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true{thats all I ask of you..}Microphone check, one two one twoShouts to the east and the west coast crewWhatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true{thats all I ask of you..}{*everybody knows fat joes in town..*}
