Okay Okay Fat Joe

[Fat Joe]
Lower the music, keep the mic up
Turn the mic up
Yeah uhh, Coca
Okay, okay okay
E Philly I see you nigga
Yeah, yeah

This is on my boy Georges, Tricky's is sellin boulevard
(Tricky boo) My niggas with buck fifties and bullet scars
Gangster bitches that ain't afraid to kill a broad
You witness the realest nigga to spit this hard
Yeah~! Look at my clothes
Look at these diamonds, look how I pose
Man, take a look at my hoes
Brazilians, Sicilians, got millions of those (AOWW!)
Yeah, who's harder than Crack?
Have the awe to play martyr then I father you back
Bein burst you didn't earth you make you part of the mack
Then I ask the whole block who got a problem with that
You feel me? No joke, no gimmicks (gimmicks)
You fuckin with niggas that live the lyrics
Cold blooded, when it's drama ain't tryin to hear it (nope)
That body fresh, you can still see the spirit

[Hook: Fat Joe]
'Til my last breath, I'mma rap 'til the death
Whether with wax or sellin cracks on my steps
Great with the knives, much better with the Tecs
Believe me, it's easy, I'll leave you a mess
I'm like yeahhhhhhhh, okay, okay okay
Okay okay, okay
I'm like yeahhhhhhhh, okay, okay okay
Okay okay, okay