Fat Joe: Rock ya body

Aowwwwwwwwww! Cool & DreI was the one who believed in you!Hahahaha[Chorus]I got one bad chick, she by my sideAbout two more wait-in outsidePull out the red carpet walk past the linePass the keys, tell 'em please valet my rideAnd just - rock ya body body, rock ya body bodyRock, ya body body, rock ya bodyJust rock - who the fuck you know like Cook?Kill a nigga on a verse, make 'em dance on a hook, nowwww[Fat Joe]Joey see/C-Murder like five-oh-fo'Better have my money cause I knock on do'sBetter yet I leave 17 peepholes, squeeze with the eagleBet I murder like five-oh-fo' - Crack, yes!You gon' need protectionThis dude mad nice with the Smith & WessunYou know, automatic, stick shift revolverFind me in the attic, long dist' the targetAfter that, do the walk-through like phone boothsWhat'chu gon' do when them dudes run up on you androck ya body body, catch somebodyGon' park, the black Denali, watch his bodyjust DROP - yeah I'm street like thatPull off the Benny Blanco, yeah it beez like thatYour whole crew boomerang, they ain't G's like thatCause when it's time to shoot they quick to point the heat right backNigga[Chorus][Fat Joe]Yo, if Suge rapped how hard would it beBut he don't, so the closest thing you got is meAin't no damn near a rapper this loc' as meCook Coke on top is how it's 'sposed to be, nigga!Yeah the Bronx is backIt's my niggaz Cool & Dre on this monster track(What they do Fat?) Yeah we been on some Don shitBeen stompin niggaz unconciousBeen sendin niggaz to trauma; I bet now you wishthe only beef that you had is wit'cha baby's mommaYou best to wear your vest as a doo-ragCause I'ma headbussa, you don't want me to do datYeah I need a new muh'fucker to shoot atMore Bin Laden talk, disappearin like Pookie from "New Jack"Said it, yeah it's all out warSo do your jumpin jacks nigga, make you hit the floor[Chorus][Fat Joe]Yes, please believe she gorgeousAnd she ain't gon' leave once she see the fortressThe blood red G-T'll leave ya nauseousAnd as for the wife, mami please, we're bossesCrenshaw, you can find me on the stripBlack Ferrari, nine milli' on the hipYou in South Beach, wet willies on the stripShit, I'm in Dade County, smokin phillies, bumpin Trick niggaNew York y'all know what it is!Got a hundred guns, got a hundred clipsNiggaz never listen 'til they vision turn bitchPawn you out of Vegas butt-naked in a ditch(That's right) By now you can see that I'm globalSlappin MC's for the dreams that they sold youAnd all the false prophecies of niggaz takin shots at meFind yourself hangin from your feet off the balcony[Chorus]