| I ain’t your friend, you a tattle teller
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| You rat, you snitch, you jealous n****
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| You coward nigga, you teller n****
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| Tuck your tail, pluck your whiskers you tattle teller
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| There’s rats in the street, and rats in the jail
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| In the feds, rats wear wires in they cell
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| Shit Steven Seagal, I used to love his karate
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| But even he snitched, he told on Peter Gotti
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| Pillowtalk wit’cha girl about that German Ruger
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| got her in a small room with the prosecutor
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| Watch ya shooter, them feds givin years for them guns
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| And there’s nowhere to hide, when the marshals come
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| D.A. |
| don’t play, giving life off of hearsay
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| And right hand on the stand for conspiracy
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| Kingpin charges, and that RICO law
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| got agents in your spot for them bricks of raw
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| And people tellin on you that you never saw
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| Like your next door neighbor that live on your floor
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| The game over, man everybody wanna snatch
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| Fat Cat and Alpo n**** started this shit
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| Be careful what you ask for, Joe got bagged
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| He got knocked by the feds for some things in his past
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| Now he rattin on his co-D's, snitchin on his homies
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| to government officials, and U.S. attorneys
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| He told about his lifestyle and old war stories
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| The brawl in B-more in the stall with them shorties
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| Out of town trips, cocaine connects
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| He told about the ratchets, fo'-fifths and tecs
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| He snitched about the diesel, stashed in the ceiling
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| He bragged about them kids that caught bodies in his building
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| He told on himself and told on his right hand
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| He talked about taxes and credit card scams
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| Joe took the stand, he sold his soul
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| But little did he know he dug a deeper hole
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| He lied on his friends and the judge flipped on him
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| Now he in Fort Dix with a man’s dick on him
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| Death before dishonor, what happened to that?
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| Them wolves in lamb’s clothing is the ones that’s rat
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| Nicky Barnes and Alpo, Cat and Freeze
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| I heard Ta-Ta tellin just to get that cheese
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| Pipe on death row, they told on Pete
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| They the reason that pistol ain’t on the street
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| Chris Portello, yeah he used to fuck with Madonna
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| The South Beach King is, federal informer
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| Homey watch the corner, slingin that crack
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| That kid C.K. |
| told on O.G. |
| Mack
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| Sammy the Bull man, he the biggest of them all
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| He broke the code, he made the whole mob fall
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| Italian Joe Camby, he messed up the game
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| He tellin on his people like Saddam Hussein
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| So when you standin on that corner, chillin wit’cha fellas
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| Kid watch your back for them damn tattle tellers
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| And the Sammy the Bull award goes to, Fat Joe |