[Fat Joe]
 Yeah..
 The Fat Gangsta..

 Here comes the nigga from the East
 who just been crowned for most hated by police
 The public enemy  rapper at large
 who's known throughout the industry for pullin niggaz cards
 You know the situation  Zulu Nation
 Never forget the Bronx because the Bronx the foundation
 Fat Joe  a.k.a. Joey Crack
 Niggaz be like he's fat  bitches be like he's all that
 Motherfuckers know my rep, I never fronted
 Niggaz be talkin mad shit, but they don't want it
 It's the realer MC, the drug dealer MC
 If a nigga fake jax, I'm gonna kill a MC
 Yeah, you can't handle the truth
 Fuck around and get thrown off the project roof
 Mad lives have been lost and forgotten
 Niggaz better watch they back, the Big Apple's gone rotten

 Microphone check, one two one two
 Shouts to the East and the West coast crew
 Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true
 {"That's all I ask of you.."}

 When I step in the jam all eyes are on me
 Sold out crowds, with curiosity
 Everybody wants to know, could the man still flip it?
 Microphone gifted, unrealistic
 Comin with the bomb bass for the underground heads
 Flex got the most, Serge got the landspread
 Keepin shit real, niggaz know the deal
 Just through trial and comin down on appeal
 Microphone Joe I own it, bitches wanna bone it
 Blowin out the tweeters in your musical component
 It's your man Fat Joe, oh, is that so?
 You remember me from, "You know ya got to Flow"
 One time for your mind off the top of a dome
 Never leave for home without the motherfuckin chrome
 Word to Tone, Big Daddy, I know he's chillin
 Peace to all the villains out of state makin millions cause ah

 Microphone check, one two one two
 Shouts to the East and the West coast crew
 Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true
 {"That's all I ask of you.."}
 Microphone check, one two one two
 Shouts to the East and the West coast crew
 Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true
 {"That's all I ask of you.."}

 From the Bronx to Queensbridge, on back to Redhook
 Never lost a gram on any eighth that I cooked
 Fat Joe, army fatigue and black chuckers
 Hardcore lyrics to all my real motherfuckers
 I'm tryin to see cream, in the millions, retire
 and go play golf with Russell Simmons
 That's the type of mission that I'm on
 Aiyyo my word is bond, I keep a army just as deep as Farrakhan
 You.. can't.. deal with the man
 who be holdin down the fort with the gauge in his hand
 I know you love the way I grab the mic and spark it
 You hookers'll NEVER get your hands inside my pockets

 Microphone check, one two one two
 Shouts to the East and the West coast crew
 Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true
 {"That's all I ask of you.."}
 Microphone check, one two one two
 Shouts to the East and the West coast crew
 Whatever you do, keep this hip-hop shit true
 {"That's all I ask of you.."}

 {*"Everybody knows Fat Joe's in town.