Fat Joe - Pain lyrics
Fat Joe [Joseph Antonio Cartagena] The Bronx, New York City, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Fat Joe - Pain lyrics]
Darkside coca The Don yeah, woo!
Pack a magazine just in case I gotta clap
A boy for fuckin' up my vibe
Ever since I'm 17 had them jumpin' jacks
Hoppin' in and out of rides
Nobody, that Keith Wweat, nobody like rejects
Stuck up Mister Softee with the
Wall with the Brooklyn Deceps
Where you think the scar came from, nigga?
We been mobbin' since day one, nigga
When the cops rush, niggas had to run
Stash the cracks in the pay phone nigga!
Damn, Mr president
Triple gold diamond bezzled it
Heavy is the head that wears the crown
In the tub screamin' fly pelican
In the rooftops flipped pigeons
Niggas losin' their religion
Gold, lots of those over Coca-Cola
Sweaters pitchin' what was stitched in
What you know about pain?
I know about pain, nigga yeah, uh!
Against all odds, Phil Collins
Hear her callin' In The Air Of The Night
That sound of crack fiends in tag
Teams suckin' air out the pipe
Down the block from where it began
Took his last breath, dirty mattress, uh
I feel like Al Capone how they did
Him dirty for them fuckin' taxes, uh
Rest in peace Cato, that Chi-Raq
I sling that bitch in the elevator goin up
With BIG, Meech thinkin', "Damn he rich"
Madoff made off like Robin Hood
On them Wall Street kids work of art
The Basciat depend on what brush
You paint it with
Pack a magazine just in case I gotta clap
A boy for fuckin' up my vibe
Ever since I'm 17 had them jumpin' jacks
Hoppin' in and out of rides
Nobody, that Keith Wweat, nobody like rejects
Stuck up Mister Softee with the
Wall with the Brooklyn Deceps
Where you think the scar came from, nigga?
We been mobbin' since day one, nigga
When the cops rush, niggas had to run
Stash the cracks in the pay phone nigga!
Damn, Mr president
Triple gold diamond bezzled it
Heavy is the head that wears the crown
In the tub screamin' fly pelican
In the rooftops flipped pigeons
Niggas losin' their religion
Gold, lots of those over Coca-Cola
Sweaters pitchin' what was stitched in
What you know about pain?
I know about pain, nigga yeah, uh!
Against all odds, Phil Collins
Hear her callin' In The Air Of The Night
That sound of crack fiends in tag
Teams suckin' air out the pipe
Down the block from where it began
Took his last breath, dirty mattress, uh
I feel like Al Capone how they did
Him dirty for them fuckin' taxes, uh
Rest in peace Cato, that Chi-Raq
I sling that bitch in the elevator goin up
With BIG, Meech thinkin', "Damn he rich"
Madoff made off like Robin Hood
On them Wall Street kids work of art
The Basciat depend on what brush
You paint it with