(Feat. A.G., Big L, Fat Joe, Lord Finesse)
(Fat Joe)
Welcome to the world of Joe, flooded with thugs and hoes
Real niggas, drug dealers, with villas in the Strolls
Lexus and Rolls parked in twenty-car garages
Living the largest, with Oriental massages in garbage
Shit, I get down for mine
Terror Squad run things in any town you can find
New York, New York, big city of dreams
Where there's nothing but foreign cars, bitches, and triple beams
I fiend for cash, fat pieces of ass
Never giving a fuck, get your shit laced up
The corrupt crutas wake me up to new crimes
On news prime: gangster rapper goes nuts and wounds nine
Joey Crack's the rock, known for packing Macs and glocks
Stay away from Little Puppet cause his ass is hot
Shot, in the middle of the street
Pretty boys don't sleep cause beauty is only skin deep
(Lord Finesse)
While you playing games, we claimin fame slaying dames
The aim is to make Mo' Money like Damon Wayans
You know our names, we don't play jokes
Niggas ain't feeling us? You ain't supposed to, that's for gay folks
You stay broke, we stay holding and stay rolling
Rap's Beetoven, exploding, my game's golden
Pockets swollen, we make the freaks stare
Roll with some chocolate grimey niggas, but ain't nothing sweet here
Keep clear, ah yeah so get stepping
Make hit records off of loops that's six seconds
No question the cash tipper, the ass whipper
Need a chick that can hang, fuck you broads that wear glass slippers
Bigger, city slicker, you cats follow me?
Finesse is among the stars like astrology
Greater knowledge, G, shit's wild, I flip styles
On the mile, let me pass it off like Chris Childs
(Fat Joe)
Yo it's all love, thug niggas and all of the above
Drug dealers, killer, niggas at the Player's Club
Young ladies, sisters, rump shaking bitches
Niggas on the Island rock 150 stitches
Niggas on the Island rock 150 stitches
(Big L)
Yo my cash flow don't get low, it just increase
And whoever tries to take mine will rest in peace
Keep a stone look, peace to every known crook
Not those who go to jail and can't hold they own and come home shook
So hold on and prepare to get rolled on
My crew robs every fag that walks through the ?
Cats who act rah rah will catch a jim star scar
Punks who fake the funk don't get far, pah
Me and my clan parlay sipping Grand Marlet
At a party at the bar is where we stand all day
In '97 I'm bubbling, no more stuggling
If I fall, it's back to selling drugs again and busting slugs in men
No doubt, you know what I'm about
The last slouch that walked through my block didn't make it out
Because I stuck that nigga, then I bucked that nigga
(I felt sorry for that kid) I didn't fuck that nigga
(A.G)
We be the bomb, baby, indeed I smoke weed
Been ripping shit since the late 80's, so what you need?
Not scared to fall, that's why I rise and stand tall
And send y'all back to the wall like I'm Darryl Straw
The truth is, don't give a damn if you're ruthless
Make it happen, I look at platinum niggas like "Who's this?"
Woe the the bloody city, Babylon will
Die in its inequities, project overkill
See me in the future shining, gold with diamonds
A nigga been used to climbing, my whole life
That's a trademark, if it ain't rough, it ain't right
We bring the heat, all you do is bark, we bite
I'm authentic, and once I send it, it's unretrievable
Like nuclear missles, cause meant it, now it's time to lace this
Resort to the basics
Niggas get rushed just because, hush and don't say shit
All Luv Lyrics performed by D.I.T.C. are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that All Luv Lyrics performed by D.I.T.C. is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD