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    Fat Joe / Lyrics

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    "Take a Look at My Life" Lyrics

    Fat Joe

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    Duration:00:04:01
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    Lyrics

    Whoo, friendly day in the neighborhood
    Birds is chirpin' (Hi neighbor!)
    Niggas walkin they dogs, ha ha, watering they flowers
    That's my neighborhood, f*ck no
    I'm from the streets of the BX Boro where niggas push packs
    This is that surge shit, that full flex shit, All Groh shit
    Raul ya heard me?
    Macho, Jigga Brown JD, Charlie Rock LD, Remy Ma, unh
    Sound boy turn this shit up right here

    I'm your idol, your higest 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 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 get cha own shine, muhh'fucka

    [chorus]
    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

    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]

    [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
    This song was submitted on March 5th, 2005 and last modified on November 24th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Remy Kioni Smith, Anthony Best, Joseph Cartagena.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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