The technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit This is a un-usual musical I conductin' You lookin' at the black
farther Down the road, to a road not taken I'm tired of all these same bitches, I need to take care A new flower, so Joe can take a shower And get wet, and then jet
machine See my souped up bird spread her golden wings Going back in black through my neighborhood My main street middle class Hollywood Jenny?s all jet
me baby To my man Black Jus baby R.I.P Accessory to the crime is the prime Dogg 3 When we get the money baby, spreadin' the cream To tell your brother Joe
a smart shoppa Shot a cop day around the way 'bout to stay But who'd a know there's two mo' that wonder where the shooter go 'Bout to jet, get him, not
try and swallow this [12 O'Clock - Brooklyn Zu] Niggaz know my steez, I jet to D.C. Chromed-down M3, nigga that play B.E.T. Joe Clair, why these faggot
Projects, actual facts, slingin' some crack We'll come back, pure garbage, yo, you dumb, black? Blow his fuckin' head off Joe, call Napolean The only
Other rappers are comprehensible, not me. First on the mic, MC Confusing! I took a piss on my nutsack and called it Jack Black It's a fact. I got more
and clean Back on the scene Crispy and Slaughterhouse! [Royce da 5'9:] Slaughterhouse family, ridin' like a taxi And yeah, I'm like Dres, I am like the black
technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips To blow this like a trumpet you dumb shit This is a un-usual musical I conductin You lookin at the black
me I gotta thing for ya [Fat Joe:] A material girl In a material world Venus, Serina Ma cereal girls What you know about having dinner on a jet
got me I gotta thing for ya [Fat Joe:] A material girl In a material world Venus, Serina Ma cereal girls What you know about having dinner on a jet Make
the thuggish freaks She love to eat plus bust the heat We touch the streets wit the same principles Everyday gotta get this cash know it makes sense to you Joe
Yeah.. now in ninety-three Everybody knows the flav Fat Joe Da Gangsta, yeah You know my style Fat Joe, a.k.a. Da Fat Gangsta I'm no joke, and I'm far
look farther Down the road, to a road not taken I'm tired of all these same bitches, I need to take care a new flower, so Joe can take a shower and get wet, and then jet
machine See my suped up bird spread her golden wings Going back in black through my neighbourhood My main street middle class Hollywood Jenny?s all jet
on a plane Get to work all week and spend what he earns On the high street He's got doctors, nurses, fireman, churches, Kindergarten, wedding bells and jet black