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Song title: Fat Joe - Fat Joe's In Town (feat. Doo Wop)

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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.