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FAT JOE lyrics : "Fat Joe's in Town"

[DJ cuts "Guess who's back?"]

[Fat Joe]

Yeah..
The Fat Gangsta..


Here comes the ^!$$% 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 ^!$$%z cards
You know the situation, Zulu Nation
Never forget the Bronx because the Bronx the foundation

Fat Joe, a.k.a. Joey Crack
^!$$%z be like he's fat, (*##$es be like he's all that
Mother$#&@ers know my rep, I never fronted

^!$$%z be talkin mad %#@!, but they don't want it
It's the realer MC, the drug dealer MC
If a ^!$$% fake jax, I'm gonna kill a MC

Yeah, you can't handle the truth
$#&@ around and get thrown off the project roof
Mad lives have been lost and forgotten

^!$$%z 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 %#@! 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 %#@! real, ^!$$%z know the deal
Just through trial and comin down on appeal

Microphone Joe I own it, (*##$es 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 mother$#&@in 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 %#@! 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 %#@! 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 mother$#&@ers
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 %#@! 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 %#@! true
("That's all I ask of you..")


["Everybody knows Fat Joe's in town.."]

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