Fat Joe - Joey Don't Do It lyrics
Fat Joe [Joseph Antonio Cartagena] The Bronx, New York City, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Fat Joe - Joey Don't Do It lyrics]
"Hey Joe, now where you goin with that
Gun in yo' hand?" - Jimi Hendrix
Yeah, yeahhh, AOWWWW'! yeah
Just when you thought it was, s-s-s-s-safe
I ran up in the crib
And cleared the motherfuckin safe
Got crates full of bass, got pills, got ones
And everybody knows that, Joey got a gun
I got that ch-ch-ch-ch-chopper
Yes I'm a hustler
A to the K with the motherfuckin muffler
Heed when the God speak
When I squeeze my palm squeak
Drop more shells on your
Block than Palm Beach
Don't do it, don't do it
Shit Joey don't do it
I said fuck it I'mma push this
Shit back to the future
Niggas call me German so I
Hit 'em with the Ruger
Bullets like Easy Pass
They run right through ya
Got the supersoaker for superjokers
To supertorch ya
Stupid is what stupid does, now move it Coka
I'mma prove it's over, you ain't got a chance
And I don't even need a gun
I know how to dance
Yeah, uhh joey got a gun, and everybody know
That black kitted car stash box where it go
Fo'-fo' long, told Curtis he could hold that
Run in your hotel room, and take yo' gat
Got old guns for new niggas, my throwback
And I ain't talkin 'bout music
Get your soul clapped
Canons so big, bounce, they exit
Play Superman, fuck around, get your S split
42 shots to the chest, where your vest went?
No more passes for niggas, no exceptions
Got the goons with me and
Them niggas kinda desperate
Give a nigga a job like Tony, do reception
Pounding, ran the chain on the man's border
Taliban style
Blow his brains on the camcorder
You can hear death in my voice
Call it manslaughter
Pistol whip the shit out this bitch
Put my hands on her
Gun in yo' hand?" - Jimi Hendrix
Yeah, yeahhh, AOWWWW'! yeah
Just when you thought it was, s-s-s-s-safe
I ran up in the crib
And cleared the motherfuckin safe
Got crates full of bass, got pills, got ones
And everybody knows that, Joey got a gun
I got that ch-ch-ch-ch-chopper
Yes I'm a hustler
A to the K with the motherfuckin muffler
Heed when the God speak
When I squeeze my palm squeak
Drop more shells on your
Block than Palm Beach
Don't do it, don't do it
Shit Joey don't do it
I said fuck it I'mma push this
Shit back to the future
Niggas call me German so I
Hit 'em with the Ruger
Bullets like Easy Pass
They run right through ya
Got the supersoaker for superjokers
To supertorch ya
Stupid is what stupid does, now move it Coka
I'mma prove it's over, you ain't got a chance
And I don't even need a gun
I know how to dance
Yeah, uhh joey got a gun, and everybody know
That black kitted car stash box where it go
Fo'-fo' long, told Curtis he could hold that
Run in your hotel room, and take yo' gat
Got old guns for new niggas, my throwback
And I ain't talkin 'bout music
Get your soul clapped
Canons so big, bounce, they exit
Play Superman, fuck around, get your S split
42 shots to the chest, where your vest went?
No more passes for niggas, no exceptions
Got the goons with me and
Them niggas kinda desperate
Give a nigga a job like Tony, do reception
Pounding, ran the chain on the man's border
Taliban style
Blow his brains on the camcorder
You can hear death in my voice
Call it manslaughter
Pistol whip the shit out this bitch
Put my hands on her