| Yeah, T.S., yeah, uhh
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| Yo, yo…
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| Wonder if we all V-S'es'us
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| Wanna know the streets that we fuss
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| Now sit back and witness the di-rector's cut
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| And niggas throw your T.S.'s up
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| Go figure it, Joe Crack runnin New York
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| Who woulda thunk it, God above and Pun did
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| Yeah, they came while I was 'sleep
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| Whispered in my ear this is your year
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| So I testify
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| To burn down the throne, niggas follow my lead
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| Save your breath for crownin me King of N. Y
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| I’m the one and only Godfather, one through three
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| Pardon me, but I was raised in the projects
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| Forgettin I wasn’t the only object
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| We was more concerned with cuttin up and choppin
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| Supplyin fiends with that work, get it poppin
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| Now who wanna pop off 'til they head get popped off
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| By the realest MC, and that’s ME!
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| Joe Crack the Don, I came from the streets
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| Knee deep in the game, other half in the streets
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| I got that permit to bury ya ice grill
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| Shoulda named this album hurr «Licensed to Kill»
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| Ahhh — yes my life chilly chill
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| Mansion in Miami, other in the Jersey Hills
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| Chillll, that’s that '88 flow
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| Small face 20's, that’s that '88 dough
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| Joey Jefferson, I’m on the 88th flo'
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| Khaled him with that talk nigga
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| One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo'
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| Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
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| Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
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| Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke
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| One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo'
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| Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
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| Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
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| Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke
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| Wonder why I paint a picture of the street life so vivid I lived it
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| Y’all dudes innocent, y’all just visitin
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| And that’s the reason why they call me ghetto
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| D.O., have you homeless diggin deep holes
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| Police know, but just couldn’t figure me out
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| I’m like, have 'em makin pies in the house
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| It’s grill, spit fire like I never been out
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| And I ain’t gon' retire 'til there’s never a doubt
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| The wheels, in my head keep spinnin
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| I’m thinkin anybody go against me losin chil’ren
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| I’m thinkin there’s no better time than now to start some killin
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| It’s Cook Coke Crack, 2005's ghetto version of Achilles NIGGA
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| One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo'
|
| Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
|
| Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
|
| Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke
|
| One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo'
|
| Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
|
| Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
|
| Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke
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| Yo, yo, loop this and you crash the remix
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| And forget who you thought I was, I’m Crack BEYOTCH
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| The same dude that made you «Lean Back»
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| And had that nigga Ma$e spittin that gangsta shit
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| Can’t wait 'til my nigga Shyne come home
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| Six minutes, six minutes, Joey Crack you’re on
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| Uh-um, uh-um, is my microphone on? |
| Yes
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| New York, look I brought the championship home
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| Now, through up your peace signs to the sky
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| For all our soldiers that died
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| That means Biggie Smalls, 2Pac, Big L and Left Eye
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| And Big Pun the greatest of all time, sing it with me now
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| One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo'
|
| Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
|
| Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
|
| Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke
|
| One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo'
|
| Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo'
|
| Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more
|
| Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke
|
| Wonder if we all V-S'es'us
|
| Wanna know the streets that we fuss
|
| Now sit back and witness the di-rector's cut
|
| And niggas throw your T.S.'s up
|
| Wonder if we all V-S'es'us
|
| Wanna know the streets that we fuss
|
| Now sit back and witness the di-rector's cut
|
| And niggas throw your T.S.'s up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Beat Novacane , by - Fat Joe. Song from the album All Or Nothing, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп