Fat Joe - The Crack Attack lyrics
Fat Joe [Joseph Antonio Cartagena] The Bronx, New York City, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Fat Joe - The Crack Attack lyrics]
"I bet you thought I left you hanging"
Yeah, yeah yeah
"I bet you thought I left you hanging"
Terror Squad again long overdue baby
"III bet you thought I left you hanging"
Don Cartagena
Bringing you the best in hardcore Hip-Hop
"J-J-Joe Crack returns banging"
Yeah, uh
Yo it's the Don of rap, sipping Cognac
Hit you on the back with the MAC
(Clack, clack) slip you into cardiac
It's the art of rap at the illest form
From a killer's point of view
Who thrives off the area jealous ones
You could tell it's on from my introduction
Hibernate the junction with killing something
When you was barely dumping
You ain't even nuttin' to worry about
I flurried your mouth
With about thirty right in
Front of your house
Then I'm hurrying out in the expedition
Professional hit men
The vestibule shit from the credible disses
Federals is listening to my conversations
Taping all the songs I'm making
Shaking down every ounce of my congregation
John Blazing, raising the stakes
Changing your fate
Tied up in my basement with
A gauge in your face
Make no mistake, that's how I do my thing
Blow out a lot of brains
I'm saying it's not a game
Take these words home and think it through
Or the next rhyme I write might be about you
Take these words home and think it through
Or the next rhyme I write might be about you
Uh uh yeah joe Crack taking a L and make
Tone roll over in his grave, never that
TS shatters dreams and discourage the brave
Remember that i been busting guns since the
Infamous days of leather hats
Varsity sweaters with big letters black
Pushin' the illest whips down fifty-fifth
Where killers riff
Without havin' to split Phillies and sniff
And Willies who shift jobs from Chili
Willing to leave you stiff
Fulfilling my biggest wish
In this illegal shit
Quarter Maris stay slugger with karats
Never offered marriage
When my corpse is carried my
Mom'll get all my cabbage
Terror Squad is savage
Draped in the finest of fabrics
Floss like it's a habit
Eight shot up in my Louis baggage
You knew we knew we had you
Lay half your crew in gravel
Caught you slipping with your boo
And started shooting at you
Out of captivity left Relativity
Now we on the Bigger
Beat, Terror Squad trilogy, what?
Take these words home and think it through
Or the next rhyme I write might be about you
Take these words home and think it through
Or the next rhyme I write might be about you