Fat Joe - What's Luv Lyrics

Fat Joe - What's Luv Video

Fat Joe:

Put the fuckin' mic on

Mic is on

Joe Crack the Don uh

Yeah, Yeah, Y'All

Irv Gotti

 

Ashanti:

What's love?

 

Fat Joe:

Ashanti, Terror, Terror Squad

It should be about us

Be about trust

 

Chorus: Ashanti (Ja Rule) (Fat Joe)

What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All)

What's love?

It's about us (It's about us)

It's about trust babe (Be about trust)

What's love? (Got to do, got to do with it babe) (Yeah, Yeah, Uh)

What's love?

It should be about us (It should be about us)

It should be about trust babe (Be about trust)

What's love?

 

Verse 1: Fat Joe

Yeah, yeah, uh, uh, woo, yeah, slow down baby

Let you know from the gate I don't go down lady

I wanna chick with thick hips

That licks her lips

She can be the office type or like to strip

Girl you get me aroused how you look in my eye

But you talk to much man your ruinin' my high

Don't wanna lose the feelin'

Cause the roof is chillin'

It's on fire & you lookin'

Good for the gettin'

I'm rida

Other in a hoodie or a linner I'ma provider

You should see the jewelery on my women

& I'm livin' it up

The squad stay feelin' the truck

With Chicks that's willin' to triz with us uh

You say you gotta man & your in love

But what's love

Gotta do with a little menage

After the party

Just me & you

Could just slide for a few

& she could come too

That's love!

 

Chorus

 

Verse 2: Fat Joe

Yeah, uh, yeah, yo, mommy, I know you got issues

You gotta man

But you need to understand

That you got something with you

Ass is fat, frame is little

Tattoo in your chest with his name in the middle

Uh, I'm not a hater I just crush a lot

& the way you shake your booty I don't want you to stop

You Need to come a little closer (You need to come a little closer)

& let me put you under my arm like a Don is supposed ta

(Like a Don is supposed ta)

Please believe

You leave with me

We'd be freakin' all night like we was on E

You need to trust the god & jump in the car

For a little hard 8 at the Taj Mahal

What's love?

 

Chorus

 

Verse 3: Fat Joe, Ashanti

 

Yeah, uh, yo, I stroll in the club with my hat down

Michael Jack style

Hot 7 who the mack now?

Not my fault cause they love the kid

Ma be the chain or the whip

I don't know what it is

We just party & bullshit

Come on mommy put your body in motion

You gotta nigga open

You came here with the heart to cheat

So you need to sing the song with me

All my ladies come on

 

Ashanti (Fat Joe)

When I look in your eyes there's no stopin' me

I want the Don Joey Crack on top of me (Uh-huh)

Don't want your stacks (Yeah)

Just break my back (Uh)

Gonna cut you no sack (Whoo)

Cause I'm on it like that (Uh, Come On)

Come on (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All) & put it (Yeah, Yeah, Y'All)

On me (Put it on ya Girl) on me (I'm put it on ya Girl)

 

Chorus 2 Times

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Fat Joe - Still Real Lyrics

Fat Joe - Still Real Video

It's so depressing, uh..

Be the realest shit I ever wrote (Money and cars bitches)

Shit Is Real Part 2.. (drugs) modern day.. (society yaknow?)

See what it's like to walk in my shoes

It ain't all fun and games (ya heard?)

 

Yo yo

I'm sick and tired of stressin, every days a different lesson

I'm free-fallin tryna leave this deep depression

My son Joey still slow, my moms got cancer in her throat

My big brother sniffin dope

Lemme know how many motherfucker wanna be just like me

Screamed at and treated like shit by your wifey

This hot bitch be sweatin the coke cash

My baby mother think I grow dough out my ass

It's like, how much fight I got left in me?

Niggaz won't be happy till they bring the fuckin death of me

But you never see Joe look weak or flow off beat

And Charlie sees the board in four more weeks

 

Chorus 2x

You gotta walk where I walked

Bang where I bang

Slang where I hang

To get where I'm going to

Stay where I stay

Blaze who I blazed

Pay dues how I payed

To get where I'm going to

 

Fat Joe

Uh, yo, the South Bronx, nine years later

Ain't nuttin changed, niggaz still playa haters

T.S. the best that's done it, forever live and never front it

Reminisce of when I used to hold heat and tell niggaz run it

Now we flooded with jewels, hundreds of dudes

Crowd the Coliseum to hear they favorite tunes

Then at the time of our prime we caught a sick one

The angels came down, took my twin Big Pun

Shit were unbalanced throughout the whole world

All I could do was try to provide for his seeds and his old girl

Hope your listenin, tell Ton' that we still missin him

I'm like a prisoner in jail with no visitors

 

Chorus 2x

 

Fat Joe

Yeah, uh, aiyyo the third verse is dedicated to you

Even though you switched teams, I'm praying for you

We used to stay up all night countin dollar for dollar

You was my son's godfather, where the fuck is your honor?

Can't even rap the shit we did together

You'd probably have me shackled locked down doin bids forever

You broke the first code

I'd like to twist ya wifey till it roasts gold

Snitch nigga, turned state to sold ya soul

How could a nigga that was clappin in the streets

Start yappin to the deez, like what I rightly should believe?

Like ever verse is a charge, for every hurt there's a scar

I never once tried to hurt cha'll

I'm just tryna do me, sell a few CD's

Buy land in Miami and cop a new B come on!

 

Joe talking

Motherfuckers think it's sweet

Think a nigga got money and a nigga don't feel pain

You ain't never feel my pain

You don't know what the fuck I'm goin through

Niggaz lookin at me like, He got it made

Like I ain't lose Pun, my grandfather a week later

My aunt a month later

Like my fuckin sister ain't in a coma right now!

You motherfuckers don't know pain!

Let's get one thing clear; money'll never buy you happiness

My true niggaz walk with me now!

 

Chorus 2x

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Fat Joe - Crush Tonight Lyrics

Fat Joe - Crush Tonight Video

Ginuwine

Baby, if you wit' it, just clap yo' hands

Stop playin' girl, back that ass up and

Spend that cash dog, drink the Henny and

Freak that girl like you tryna have a baby cuz

 

Everybody's out to fuck tonight

The fly women, they out to fuck tonight

My niggas, they down to fuck tonight

Ladies, fellas, the won't stop players

 

Fat Joe

Came through the door, seen it before

Hands touchin' the ceiling, booty streakin' the floor

You ever felt good to the point you so sure that

All the attention in the club is yours

Got your hair done up, shades Christian Dior

Leave us, trade a little happy on your Vickey draws

Gettin' your dance on hard, who could wish for more

And your crew's all but know it's a horse

Got the Don all warm and it ain't the Hen'

Feelin' like the Don woman, you could wrestle her chin

Shorty, come a little closer while the record spin

I wanna freak a little longer, can they play it again

 

Repeat 1

 

Yo, got my mind on my money, money on my mind

And to let you know, you just as good as gold

It's like we got our own little private party goin' on

And the scene just changed into shores of San Juan

It's so intimate, we so into it

Such a tender thing, but fuck I'm innocent

Grindin' so hard you gotta know what I'm thinkin'

Laughin' cuz I'mma kidnap you for the weekend

Now we at the pad about to crack a case

Playin' the couch like Ceasar's, she feedin' me grapes

Not for nuttin' hon, the sex is great

But you know you got to go, I got checks to chase... next

 

Repeat 1

 

Ginuwine

If you're wit' it grab your friends, follow Joe and me

Cuz it's on, it's on

Went in and got the Cris' and a pound of weed

It's on, it's on

 

Fat Joe

Now mami, let's get serious, cuz by the looks of it

It seems your sexuality is just a little curious

You got a friend, we could gather then split

If not, I got a girl for every girl I get

There's a drop in the lot and it whip so fast

We hit the swiss hotel before you finish your glass

And you know you wanna be where the cake is at

Where the pockets just like calories, extra fat

Mami, your body like Malery on Natural Born Killer

She like, they got money but ya'll are more realer

She wanna roll wit' us, pretty much to crit' us

No beatin' around the bush, just beatin' it 'till you bit us

 

Repeat 1

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Fat Joe - Take A Look At My Life Lyrics

Fat Joe - Take A Look At My Life Video

(Intro: Fat Joe)

Whooo.. friendly day in the neighborhood

Birds is chirpin (Hi neighbor!)

Niggas walkin they dogs, ha ha, watering they flowers

That's my neighborhood.. FUCK NO!

I'm from the streets of the BX Boro where niggas push packs

This is that surge shit, that full flex shit, Al Groh shit

Raul ya heard me?

Macho, Jigga Brown JD, Charlie Rock LD, Remy Ma, unh

Sound boy turn this shit up right here

 

(Fat Joe)

I'm your idol, your highest title, numero uno

Yes I'm Puerto Rican and I speak it so that you know

Stomp.. yeah that's the idea

Leave that nigga leakin from ear ta ear

Listen here young bruh, man ya end is near

They probaly, find your body at the end of the pier

Niggas must be crazy to mistakin me for folk lore

I put the eighty to your baby man I told y'all

Fuckin wit crack's like fuckin wit Crack

What? Pull out the pipe or push your weight back

Look, ya hate that, look we stay straped

From Crook from way back done took the game back

Ya shook, remain fact top of the world, stop knockin the girl

She in the drop with already rock lock and the pearl

Fish Scale ta Heron, live well from here on

Half a mil in ya grill, of course we bare all

Niggas thinkin that this rap is just words

I pull up in they curb, pull a Desert Bird

And clear the block in no time

Get off my dick, stop focus shit and getcha own shine, muhh'fucka

 

(Chorus: Fat Joe)

Take a look at my life, and you can see that

I'm from the Bronx where it's known to hear the heat clap

Y'all need a nigga like me to point cha fingers at

So stop hating on The Don, you know ya need Crack

Take a look at my life, and you can see that

I'm from the Bronx where it's known to hear the heat clap

Y'all need a nigga like me to point cha fingers at

So stop hating on The Don, you know ya need Crack

 

(Fat Joe)

First we was thuggin, then bust sluggin

My Lifestyle the shit, really had the streets buggin

Oh no he ain't come back like that

Not Crack with a platinum plaque, yo!

It's the thirteenth al spinna

Niggas use to doubt now we even made Craig Common look like a winner

Me and Diddy skippin out on bills

Just copped the house on a hill, now how that feel?

Fuck, alot of y'all niggas, you been shittin since the first song

Now we rip it down spring break with no shirt on

Ass all out, just swoonin the crowd

Same damn mean bitches wanna move in my house

You see us back to back in 'em snow white trucks

Chain hanging off the rim, you not giving a fuck

You must not be reading it right

Ice so bright, we don't need headlights at night

Yo, crack niggas, ask niggas how I smack niggas

With the mac flast cuz I am what I rap, nigga

TS throw in your hands, make 'em pack nigga

To never let another crew move his back nigga, what!

 

(Chorus)

 

(Outro: DJ Kay Slay)

Yeah, DJ Kay Slay a.k.a. Slap ya favorite DJ

The black Fat Joe of the motherfuckin game

Terror Squad motherfuckers, y'all know what it is

I'll buck, ooh, ooh ooh, I'll slap the shit out of one of you

Motherfuckers

Y'all front on the Squad, man? Y'all know what it is, man

2003 shit, faggot ass motherfuckers, get the fuck outta here

Oh, oh, oh yeah, and most of youse owe me

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