So you treat him just a little too rude Buddy, you think she's a little too cold So you act like a two year old Don't it make you feel low, Joe? Don'
the whole price of nothin' You fuckin' with all brothers and Bronx bombers Who want dramas, word to my dead and gone mama Let me find the next muthafucka Disrespect Fat Joe
and get shot in the lip You stop with the quick and never make another move Even your mother lose, I hurt up your pops to pay your brother dues Big Pun
(Fat Joe) Yeah, Yeah (Mmm) This is the Terror Squad, Bleach Brother, Colabo (Mmmm) Italiano (what) Ya know da deli Aha, Aha Dirtman Hey yo, Hey yo, Hey
day in Oakland bitch It was me, Jaque, Beamin and Tilo Boo-kicke slow-motion and PO Spud, Ju-Ju, Frog and Big-E Gettin high on our street Bug, Joe-A
Too Short, Too Short Too, Too Short, Too Short You see, I'm fresh like always with funky beats I say what's up to the brothers on 10th Street It's goin
punch the clock Thought he was bulletproof and got shot It's either heaven or hell, him or me Locked in a cell or out on the street Every day on the ave another brother
!) (2-2 Live Crew) (Say whut?) (2 Live Crew) (They're back!) Verse 2 [Kid Ice] We're Nasty As we Wanna Be They dropped the ban and set us free Lil' Joe
from Pac-Jam Handsome Harry, you know the brother was strong He ain't dared any man to get him wrong L.A. Jay, this young brother doesn't play He'll
' 'Scarface', dreamin' of becomin' Tony Schemin', Triple Beamin', double teamin' *** with my homies I got no game, it's just some *** understand my story And ain't no problems, my brother
m just a funky rapper from around the way But right in my face about a million brothers stood Throwin up gangsigns, representin they neighborhood Brother
the rockaway (YEAH!), now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back [Verse 4: Fat Joe (With Lil jon in back round)] No Judas or cowardice that Caine's brother
Joe Roberts I work for the state I'm a sergeant out of Perrineville barracks number 8 I always done an honest job as honest as I could I got a brother
the lambs To my man Chi-Ali, silence the lambs To my man Jazzy Jay, silence the lambs To my partner Diamond D, silence the lambs To my man Fat Joe, silence
're laying in a fucking ditch With motherfucking maggots with the rest of them faggots 'Cause your license to kill was from Tagget's I warned a brother of another brother
bitch my high price lawyer still hood like a dickie fit My words like a four forum page Hold on, you gone collapse like joe joe on stage if you, ever
power blows Toes as big as tennis balls that's on a six hour note Attitude like Pimp C, cup taste like Big Moe R.I.P. to Pat and his big brother, hope
That's that s*** n**** sit it in a pamper I still got two sittin in the hamper I let em' sit and air out unless you want em' damper My lil brother got