[Fat Joe]
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Whoa, whoa, whoa
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All you frontin-ass niggaz
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Callin all frontin-ass bitches, hahahaha!
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Yo, get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?)
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Get the hell on with that (say what, say what what?)
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Yo, yo, yo, yo
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Why you over there lookin at me, while my girl standin there?
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These bitches actin like they never seen a millionaire
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Feel my pockets, wanna really get your hands in there
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Now what it be like?
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You confused man, that shit don't even seem right
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How you cats on your album only three mics?
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Like 'Pac shit is funny to me
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All you niggaz livin bummy wasn't fuckin with me
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Now nigga get it on, soon you be dead and gone
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Shorty got a bubble all she need the silicone
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Love my A-T-L bitches, pay my bail bitches
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Type to let you fuck but never tell bitches
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Down-ass hoes that'll grind that dough
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Catch me with another chick and beat 'em down to a pulp
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It's the F-A-T, to the, J-O-E
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Drink Cris' with the Feds when they come for me
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No cuffs, no guns, they respect a G
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Number one with a slug, what you expect from me, huh?
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Are you serious?
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[Chorus: Fat Joe]
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If you see a nigga frontin fake shit on his wrist
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Walk around all night, same bottle of Cris'
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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If you see a bitch frontin in her best friend's clothes
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New sass weave and fucked up toes
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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[Armageddon]
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Now all my ladies put your hands up
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Nah mami, if you fuck for dough then you's a hoe
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And no I'm not the one that don't drop the notes
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I only ice the beef and rock the coat
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Think you gettin somethin from me your thoughts are broke
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Might get a little wheeze and a salty throat,
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So get the hell on with that, don't you weave and feel it
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Get the hell on with that, I'm aight I'm chillin
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Chicken neck-ass bitch tryna palm the dough
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Should've charged me at the door, I woulda let you know
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Get the same jewel mouth full of heavy Mo'
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Coulda made you a thug from the guy with the mo'
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But yo, I ain't never met a chick that was innocent
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They all fuck some, eat some, never kiss
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I know a lot that got skeed on and that was it
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See me in the video like, "Bitch I sucked his dick"
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[Chorus: Fat Joe]
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You let him in at one time cause you thought he was fly
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Now you see him at the clubs, he don't pay you no mind
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Yo, every time you smoke, dude puff your 'dro
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But when it's time to go cop, he ain't got no dough
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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[Ludacris]
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Ludacris be the number one street - clown wishin 'em luck
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Cause I'm bout to make 'em break a leg thinkin I'm givin a FUCK
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And you catch a beat - down, bottles is breakin, craniums crack
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Chairs thrown when the heat is attacked
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and you hear the street - sound, hitters and runners
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Killers and gunners, winter to summer the niggaz that want us
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are headed East - bound, trouble in West other than South
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Cover your chest, they cover your mouth
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I'm goin deep - down Dirty indeed, birdies in need
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Thirty degrees and you heard it from me
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but I'm bout to reach - 'round grabbin my gun
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They scatter and run but I'm handlin and havin some fun
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They gotta keep - rounds up under the bed, up under the spread
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If it ain't then it ain't, no wonder you dead
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So go to sleep - now, throats is splitted
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and folks that get it they gotta get the hell on widdit, BIATCH
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[Chorus: Fat Joe]
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Yo, yo, all these niggaz that claim thug like they're the type
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But when it's time to go to war they runnin for dear life
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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Got this clown runnin around like he's my fam
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We did time in what joint? I don't know you man!
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Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what?
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| Get the hell on with that - say what, say what what? |
