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Absolutly Correct (Only notes will be sent) Mostly Correct, yet... The lyrics are wrong Very Wrong Not the lyrics to BEAT NOVACANE
Severity is 3
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Lyric Body	[Fat Joe] Yeah, T.S., yeah, uhh Yo, yo... Wonder if we all V-S'es'us Wanna know the streets that we fuss Now sit back and witness the di-rector's cut And niggaz throw your T.S.'s up {BEAT NOVACANE!} [Fat Joe] Go figure it, Joe Crack runnin New York Who woulda thunk it, God above and Pun did Yeah, they came while I was 'sleep Whispered in my ear this is your year {CRACK PREACH!} So I testify To burn down the throne, niggaz follow my lead Save your breath for crownin me King of N.Y. I'm the one and only Godfather, one through three Pardon me, but I was raised in the projects Forgettin I wasn't the only object We was more concerned with cuttin up and choppin Supplyin fiends with that work, get it poppin Now who wanna pop off 'til they head get popped off by the realest MC, and that's ME! Joe Crack the Don, I came from the streets Knee deep in the game, other half in the streets I got that permit to bury ya ice grill Shoulda named this album hurr "Licensed to Kill" Ahhh - yes my life chilly chill Mansion in Miami, other in the Jersey Hills Chillll, that's that '88 flow Small face 20's, that's that '88 dough Joey Jefferson, I'm on the 88th flo' Khaled him with that talk nigga {UN, UN, UN, UNBELIEVABLE!} [Chorus: repeat 2X] One Phantom, two castles, and a Jeep fo' Five mics a classic, kinda like my six-fo' Several years I earned cake, let me tell you more Joey Crack, a.k.a. '88, Cook Coke [Fat Joe] Wonder why I paint a picture of the street life so vivid I lived it Y'all dudes innocent, y'all just visitin And that's the reason why they call me ghetto D.O., have you homeless {?} diggin deep holes Police know, but just couldn't figure me out I'm like {?}, have 'em makin pies in the house It's grill, spit fire like I never been out And I ain't gon' retire 'til there's never a doubt The wheels, in my head keep spinnin I'm thinkin anybody go against me losin chil'ren I'm thinkin there's no better time than now to start some killin It's Cook Coke Crack, 2005's ghetto version of Achilles NIGGA [Chorus] [Fat Joe] Yo, yo, loop this and you crash the remix And forget who you thought I was, I'm Crack BEYOTCH The same dude that made you "Lean Back" And had that nigga Ma$e spittin that gangsta shit Can't wait 'til my nigga Shyne come home Six minutes, six minutes, Joey Crack you're on Uh-um, uh-um, is my microphone on? Yes New York, look I brought the championship home Now, through up your peace signs to the sky For all our soldiers that died That means Biggie Smalls, Tupac, Big L and Left Eye And Big Pun the greatest of all time, sing it with me now [Chorus] [repeat 2X] Wonder if we all V-S'es'us Wanna know the streets that we fuss Now sit back and witness the di-rector's cut And niggaz throw your T.S.'s up {BEAT NOVACANE!}
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