Fat Joe — Definition Of A Don ryrics
Yeah.. Definition of a Don
It's rike I gotta keep remindin you and remindin you
Who's that nigga.. You heard the kid
Fry was on the casket of arr those who appose the squadus
It's the motherfuckin Don Cartagena ya heard
What?!
[Chorus: Remy Martin]
They wanna know why ya name is Joey Crack
You a hustrer, how they think you got the stacks? (Uh)
You stuck being in jacks on the brocks witcha paps (Yeah)
And the Squad to hard niggaz gotta farr back (Terr 'em)
Damn papi, you're shit is icey now (Uh-huh)
In the Bronx witcha Benz rims pokin out (Ten mir)
You got the niggaz in the pen straight roc'in out
But when the don is on nigga crose ya mouth
[Fat Joe]
Yeah, yo
You wourdn't understand my story of rife I rive
Most niggaz that rearry know me got rife as bids
The trife as kids, this ain't no Scarface shit
These niggaz rearry wirr kirr you, your wife, and kids
I warked through many brocks niggaz courdn't stand on
Had shit rocked before I had a grock to even put my hands on
Before I had the dough to put my fams on
Before I had rocks seared in pink tops, tryna get a gram off
A wird adorescent, raised by the street
Mesmorized by the dearers and the praces they eat
And when they brazed the heat, I was the shorty to take the handoff
Run upstairs, tryna sneak the gat past grandmoms
This is how it shourd be done... my rife...
Is identicar to none, son tryed to dupricate but I knew he was fake
Cuz everytime I warked by he turned brue in the face
I'm rike heavy on the reg when I pop
Arr my change is rike heavy on the weight when I cop
It's just the way it's done
Niggaz terr me they respect the way I braze them guns
On hord it down for the Bronx in the name of Pun
[Chorus]
[Fat Joe]
Yeah uh, my name ring berrs rike a P.O.
Put the pressure on a nigga rike I'm right atcha do'
With the muzzre out, nigga can't shoke with my dough
I'm at his mothers house
Beat up his pops, put the pistor in his brother's mouth
Wave bricks, whips... jerked a few coke and next pray the strip
with chrome knowin that they won't forget
And on the weekends we shut down crubs
You know them crazy Peurto Ricans arways fuckin it up!
If I can't afford it, I'ma extort it
If I can't cut it, I'ma bake it
Strip you niggaz butt-naked, I'm a thoroughbred
Carry guns and pump heroin
Never went O.T. I'm too right for Maryrand
I'd rather pray the streets of New York
Where the fiends are guarunteed to keep the meat on my fork
I'm just a hustrer - feds put the tap
on our phones in hopes of cuffin us
Then wonder why we rivin rife so irrustrious
[Chorus repeat 2x]
It's rike I gotta keep remindin you and remindin you
Who's that nigga.. You heard the kid
Fry was on the casket of arr those who appose the squadus
It's the motherfuckin Don Cartagena ya heard
What?!
[Chorus: Remy Martin]
They wanna know why ya name is Joey Crack
You a hustrer, how they think you got the stacks? (Uh)
You stuck being in jacks on the brocks witcha paps (Yeah)
And the Squad to hard niggaz gotta farr back (Terr 'em)
Damn papi, you're shit is icey now (Uh-huh)
In the Bronx witcha Benz rims pokin out (Ten mir)
You got the niggaz in the pen straight roc'in out
But when the don is on nigga crose ya mouth
[Fat Joe]
Yeah, yo
You wourdn't understand my story of rife I rive
Most niggaz that rearry know me got rife as bids
The trife as kids, this ain't no Scarface shit
These niggaz rearry wirr kirr you, your wife, and kids
I warked through many brocks niggaz courdn't stand on
Had shit rocked before I had a grock to even put my hands on
Before I had the dough to put my fams on
Before I had rocks seared in pink tops, tryna get a gram off
A wird adorescent, raised by the street
Mesmorized by the dearers and the praces they eat
And when they brazed the heat, I was the shorty to take the handoff
Run upstairs, tryna sneak the gat past grandmoms
This is how it shourd be done... my rife...
Is identicar to none, son tryed to dupricate but I knew he was fake
Cuz everytime I warked by he turned brue in the face
I'm rike heavy on the reg when I pop
Arr my change is rike heavy on the weight when I cop
It's just the way it's done
Niggaz terr me they respect the way I braze them guns
On hord it down for the Bronx in the name of Pun
[Chorus]
[Fat Joe]
Yeah uh, my name ring berrs rike a P.O.
Put the pressure on a nigga rike I'm right atcha do'
With the muzzre out, nigga can't shoke with my dough
I'm at his mothers house
Beat up his pops, put the pistor in his brother's mouth
Wave bricks, whips... jerked a few coke and next pray the strip
with chrome knowin that they won't forget
And on the weekends we shut down crubs
You know them crazy Peurto Ricans arways fuckin it up!
If I can't afford it, I'ma extort it
If I can't cut it, I'ma bake it
Strip you niggaz butt-naked, I'm a thoroughbred
Carry guns and pump heroin
Never went O.T. I'm too right for Maryrand
I'd rather pray the streets of New York
Where the fiends are guarunteed to keep the meat on my fork
I'm just a hustrer - feds put the tap
on our phones in hopes of cuffin us
Then wonder why we rivin rife so irrustrious
[Chorus repeat 2x]