got low That's when Gee slid me 10 to make a run to the sto' He wanted me to roll with his homie named Joe Smart baller, by the way, who drove a raggedy
Satan my niggas endorse that, heat your face fixed up scalpel and forceps, Sean Rambo look at my war chest, hamburger hill bullets peelin off raw flesh, G.I. Joe
watchin TV, playin NBA Jam Im comin through bangin screw in my hoo-doo Im lettin that nigga Joe on the mic I thought you niggas knew (Haircut Joe) [23
? Then go see Larry He got the yellow hat, yellow Max's here, looking like me With a yellow back, pretty long hair Suck a dick like a wind stepping With Bobby Brown
shorty but her ass ain't big enough Her friends look like the type that'll just give it up From abyss to gecko, stay bum rushing them hoes like Joe
Di-bi-dis-banks, hip-flip-a-didip-didim-dow-hound You wonder 'bout the sweat 'pon my brow, formulatin' nouns I'll get down, boogie brother rock on, right on, right on The brown
nine millimeter go BANG! [sample - "Joe" by Jackie Moore] Does anybody know... Joe... [Fat Joe] This is death to Fat Joe, birth of Cook Sing to 'em niggaz ["Joe
Tremblin', tryin' to stay alive 'Cause when you're born in the ghetto No one seems to hear your cry Brown skin, you know I love my brown skin Every
Boro where niggas push packs This is that surge shit, that full flex shit, Al Groh shit Raul ya heard me? Macho, Jigga Brown JD, Charlie Rock LD, Remy
seventies bus With that 40-o or that straw bull Shootin' craps in the back of the liquor store And I'm hittin, and we'll keep it at that You out joe?
You oughts to see Mr Jones when he rattles the bones Old Colonel Brown jumpin' 'round like some kinda clown Ol' aged mama she done past eighty-three shoutin
He be lookin' fruity but you still can eat the booty Brian McKnights tight Joe is kinda slow Oh what about D'Angelo I want some of that brown sugar Then
all in Eighty-Nine locked down every block, made all gravy mine Gucci slides cost Three-Twenty-Five I, pulled up in the Three-Twenty-Five I and A.J. bought a Joe
yeast Worldwide trunk funk, no jazz on the East Breakin' honies down, mackin' here to Petersburg Virginia Slim, turn the freaks out in Lynchburg With brown bootie, Joe
awards I had pasta with my new team and my roster Agents beware, I'm talkin' to Shaq behind the Lakers back Michael Jordan I'm important, keep tapes recordin' Buyin' baseball stadiums, talkin' to Joe
Fred next do' and I'm hitting' his ho Got damn it, I'm blowed Behind the wheel and I can't even see the road Done smoked fo' Joe's and got three mo'
do' and I'm hitting' his ho Got damn it, I'm BLOWED Behind the wheel and I can't even see the road Done smoked fo' Joe's and got three mo' already rolled
[Intro: Young Chris] Yeah... uh, C. West We do this, Joe Budden Yeah, young Chris, what, what? Yeah, uh [Young Chris] To the heart of North Philadelph