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  • Artist: Fat Joe
  • Song Title: Take A Look At My Life
  • Album: Loyalty

[Intro: Fat Joe]
Whooo.. friendly day in the neighborhood
Birds is chirpin (Hi neighbor!)
N****s walkin they dogs, ha ha, watering they flowers
That's my neighborhood.. F**K NO!
I'm from the streets of the BX Boro where n****s push packs
This is that surge s**t, that full flex s**t, All Groh s**t
Raul ya heard me?
Macho, Jigga Brown JD, Charlie Rock LD, Remy Ma, unh
Sound boy turn this s**t up right here

[Fat Joe]
I'm your idol, your higest title, numero uno
Yes I'm Puerto Rican and I speak it so that you know
Stomp.. yeah that's the idea
Leave that n**** leakin from ear ta ear
Listen here young bruh, man ya end is near
They probaly, find your body at the end of the pier
N****s must be crazy to mistakin me for folk lore
I put the eighty to your baby man I told y'all
F**kin wit crack's like f**kin wit Crack
What? Pull out the pipe or push your weight back
Look, ya hate that, look we stay straped
From Crook from way back done took the game back
Ya shook, remain fact top of the world, stop knockin the girl
She in the drop with already rock lock and the pearl
Fish Scale ta Heron, live well from here on
Half a mil in ya grill, of course we bare all
N****s thinkin that rap is just words
I pull up in they curb, pull a Desert Bird
and clear the block in no time
Get off my d***, stop focus s**t and get cha own shine, muhh'f**ka

[Chorus: Fat Joe]
Take a look at my life, and you can see that
I'm from the Bronx where it's known to hear the heat clap
Y'all need a n**** like me to point cha fingers at
So stop hating on The Don, you know ya need Crack
Take a look at my life, and you can see that
I'm from the Bronx where it's known to hear the heat clap
Y'all need a n**** like me to point cha fingers at
So stop hating on The Don, you know ya need Crack

[Fat Joe]
First we was thuggin, then bust sluggin
My Lifestyle the s**t, really had the streets buggin
Oh no he ain't come back like that
Not Crack with a platinum plaque, yo!
It's the thirteenth al spinna
N****s use to doubt now we even made Craig Common look like a winner
Me and Diddy skippin out on bills
Just copped the house on a hill, now how that feel?
F**k, alot of y'all n****s, you been s**ttin since the first song
Now we rip it down spring break with no shirt on
A** all out, just swoonin the crowd
Same damn mean b****es wanna move in my house
You see us back to back in 'em snow white trucks
Chain hanging off the rim, you not giving a f**k
You must not be reading it right
Ice so bright, we don't need headlights at night
Yo, crack n****s, ask n****s how I smack n****s
with the mac flast cuz I am what I rap, n****
TS throw in your hands, make 'em pack n****
To never let another crew move his back n****, what!

[Chorus]

[Outro: DJ Kay Slay]
Yeah, DJ Kay Slay a.k.a. Slap ya favorite DJ
The black Fat Joe of the motherf**kin game
Terror Squad motherf**kers, y'all know what it is
I'll buck, ooh, ooh ooh, I'll slap the s**t out of one of you
motherf**kers
Y'all front on the Squad, man? Y'all know what it is, man
2003 s**t, faggot a** motherf**kers, get the f**k outta here
Oh, oh, oh yeah, and most of youse owe me

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