Check it out, check-a-check-a, check it out
Would you believe that Fat Joe would flip a style like this?
I can't get played, cause I roll with Baby Chris, nevertheless
Niggaz be tryin to front the role
When everybody knows, I'm gonna go gold
At least, kickin the funky styles that you wanna hear
Joe is bigger and better, so have no fear
I'll be rippin the mic, clockin dough, stickin the hoes
After every single show, you know (know)
One of the best to grab the mic so don't try to front
Ain't nuttin here yours, so what the fuck you want?
When I step on stage, I'm second to none
Makin MC's run, without the use of a gun, yeah
Talkin about the way I rock a party
Niggaz must be thinkin that I'm high, or drunk on Bacardi
I be hippin and hoppin, rockin and shockin, the whole rap scene
I'm mean, my favorite color is green
I guess that's why they call it the blues
Your money you lose, cause you choose to disrespect and neglect
The skills of the Fat one, but I'm all that son
Gimme the microphone and I'ma show you how it's gonna be done
So don't fake moves, cause I never fall
That's how I'm livin, hey yo I'm livin Fat y'all

I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat (2X)
Hey yo I'm livin Fat
I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat (2X)
Yo I'm livin Fat
I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat (2X)
Yo I'm livin Fat
I'm livin Fat y'all, I'm livin Fat (2X)

Look at the way I freak this style, I'm versatile
Niggaz don't want the funk, because they know I'm buckwild
Could you believe the rappers that they talk shit
While I be rippin the microphone and all my records are hits
The name is Fat Joe, I'm on the down low
I chill with Lord Finesse, you know I got the flow
I be freakin the funk, not fakin the funk, you're facin a punk, yeah
Fuck around and you'll be layin in ?v-ducts?
I got props, believe it or not
I never got caught, becuase I pay off the cops, yeah
One of the livest niggaz in New York
Sometimes I be chillin with Son
Sometimes I be chillin with Hawk, you know that
Brooklyn in the house and Uptown is too
I gotta be sayin peace, to the Boogie the Bronx crew
Pete, Sap, Brim, Vayo Mack, Gizmo, Nicer, B.G., my main man Crack
So now you know the flav, and you know the time
Brothers always be tellin me, "Joe why don't you kick a Fat rhyme"
So I don't front on my peeps
Kick a verse or two, then be out, and peace G

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