[Verse]
We getting poppin', them hammers go
The spanish bro, (Crucial Conflict), I'm (Do or Die) with the flow
Joe Peschi in Casino, ya know
Poked him 40 times, hit him once more for the road
Yeah, I'm being honest your honor, I killed a man
But he was a fucking problem your honor
They say Joey's a killer, everytime body shit
Every verse iller, ain't nobody hot as this
You know me, I'm a one man army
Even though millions'll follow just like Ghandi
I'm Malcolm, shit I bring it out 'em
Body on Broadway, now nobody can doubt him
Must I be a backpacker or Black Eye Pea
Or spit conscience shit just to win a Grammy?
Nah, they gonna listen to me
All of Big Pun is flowing through me
Yeah, Biggie Smalls is rolling with me
I'm way over your head, you like cre-a-tiv-ity
I'm a GANGSTA RAPPER, Lord forgive the shit I'm saying
But you'd be surprised where my music is playing
That's what they want to hear
Joey from the Bronx, I'm a pistoleer
I keep gunning for 'em, they keep running from me
I'm about my money give a fuck, I'm living comfortably
Yeah, I'm right here, middle of the ghetto
Sweatpants saggin cause I'm packing heavy metal
Yeah I made the switch from clear tops to yellow
Mami yelling out the Window *spanish dialogue*
I hate the nigga, he makes me sick man, look at him
Soon as I get enough I'ma cuff 'em and throw the book at him
He ain't get all this shit from that fucking rap money
And everytime we stop him, he thinks something's funny
Shit, heard he sells cracks on the block caught a body
Listen to his raps, he calls himself John Gotti
Officer, officer, please don't be bias
Don't you know all of us rappers are great liars?
We like to exaggerate, dream and imaginate
Sensationalize bring packs 'cross state
And y'all niggaz lying cause young nigga dying
Over in Iraq, yeah families are crying
Controversy like oil for food
Worldwide Pendemic now we got the bird flu
Africa's in crisis, please give aid
Must we do everything like organize for our age
Katrina, Katrina, oh Ms. Katrina
I'm looking for some benefits, tell me have you seen her

[Fat Joe]
Yeah...this is the Pendemic
We outta here...(crack)...see you next time if there is a next time
"Thanks to Joey Crack the Gangsta rapper
Do this shit my way like Frank Sinatra"...CRACK
Bye [echoes]

[1st Verse]
I'm New York's living legend
The streets know me well
Stand in the line of fire
It's going to be hell
You dancin wit the devil
Tonight's your last night
Picture me Lil's Eazy E
Pistol Fahrenheit
LA County got work in Slawson
We get it poppin
Back to Roxbury in Boston
The streets love me
See they named me coca
The Puerto Rican version of La Costra Nostra
You can find me in the kitchen with me apron on
Something like the chef, yeah I get my Raekwon on
Joey the Mayor
I get Keys to the city
And I got 'em cheap the whole hood could come with me
Nigga

[Chorus]

[2nd Verse: Lil Wayne]
I'm getting money
I'm the president Junior
And in the hood they call me Weezy the future
And everybody that's around me ull shoot ya
And nigga my band let 'em blow like twofers yeah
Clap
I got em, I GGG got 'em I got em, yep
Cook I got em, I GGG got 'em I got em, yep
And in the hood they call me Weezy the future
If listen close my nigga you might see the future

Young Wayne in the building
Where your stove at
Cook 'em up Strap 'em down
Where the road at
I'm strapped up plenty bullets
Nigga hold that
Now you step in out in led shower where your robe at
I knock your earth off
Damn where ya globe at
Fuck the coach I keep shooting like Kobe
The money knows me better then anybody
Bitch I'm paid forget about it
I'm sitting in the coupe wit the tities outted
The nipples chrome
Or that big black thing wit the slippers on that bullshit
Dippin' on them bitches
Get off dick
You soft pricks
I'm from New Orleans
Homeless but don't forget
The sun even shines on dark shit
And dawg I've been hustlin since the day I was barkin
I walk in this bitch like what it do
The money home
Stop hatin'
Get your money on
Nigga

[Chorus - 2X]

[3rd Verse]
This year all star weekend was off the chain
Literally niggaz comin' off wit them chains
Put the Desi to his chest
Homey going die tonight
Then his jaw dropped like Napoleon dynamite
Jack boy I been since I'm a toddler
My Dad was sleeping I was running through his pockets
Oh yeah you ready for war then what's stopping you
I hope you know them Bentley doors not chopper proof
And they go Br R-RR Ta Tat
Just like them bullets dancin'
Come up short wit my doe I'm bout to pull a Manson
Take your kids for ransom
Yeah it's Payback Nigga
Next time I front you some birds you better pay Crack
What shit - I don't know nothing
He might be the police coming up with assumptions
All I know is this nigga hear is about to meet god
If you don't bring me some keys or bring me fifty large

[Chorus]

Yeah
We getting paper hear
Yeah
Got that crown holders shirt on, got like a million diamonds on it
Ten million written all over that

We just clap and revolve
We just clap and revolve
We just clap and revolve
You don't wanna start no drama
We just clap and revolve
We just clap and revolve

[1st Verse]
Nine check
Forty check
K's check
You be the first to go
Haze yes
Ye yes
Motherfucker this is business, never personal
This Coca baby
I'm an 88er
I put work in these streets
Now do yourself the favor
You bring the drama
Then drama leads to choppers
Then them choppers get to sprayin'
And somebody need a doctor now
You not an actor, not a rapper
You's a clapper, you's a trapper
Got a ratchet, so why you hire coppers now
It is what it is; I got the gliz on me
And don't nobody want it with the Big homey

[Chorus - 2X]

[2nd Verse]
Nigga want beef with me
Must be out of his mind
Nigga think that Joey past his prime
Layed his ass flat in the street
Yeah I splattered his mind
Walk away with his life and his shines
Yeah, I smell pussy pussy
Yeah pussy pussy
That's how h e looked when I left his fuckin face gushy
Ask about it
Cracks about it
Went back to the crib and then we laughed about it
I'm a rider, I'm a sider - I'n a money maker
I decided you's a liar when it comes to paper
Broad day we could clap it in these streets
Middle the PJ's make em bring out these sheets

[Chorus]

[3rd Verse]
I got a thing for my little buddy
That black Mac do his thing
Leave a Nigga ugly
Yo tell me the best of the best wont fix em
We'll open your chest Nigga
Your just a victim
And I'm a rat killer
You hear that BR-Rat Nigga
I don't rap infact I'm just that Nigga
Yeah it's crack Nigga
A lot of bitches like to talk
Make em bite they tongue
Lot of niggaz claim New York but they not the one
I'm in the streets muh'fucker you could call me Harlem
You Bedstuy like Biggie
The big homeys a problem
Bronx bomber
I'll leave you comatose
We don't dance in your face, you muh'fuckers choke