Fat Joe Think About It Lyrics

Think About It Lyrics

New York, yeah, we G'ed up

Act up, clap the back of your knees up

Packin' the Mack in the back of the Beamer

Taxin' your cash and you ask me to ease up



I want to rock, now comply or get shot down

I know you gon' hire some cops now

Coca, sun down to sun up

Caly Cartel, used to be a runner



D Boy, stamp bricks with smiley faces

Show you how to turn that powder to a hundred acres

Let's get it, thank God for makin' crack raw

Now how you want it, the window or the chainsaw?



Crack, yeah, I'm nice with the knife game

Ice pick change your life with one strike, man

Too much rappin' and we don't rat

We do it for them trap stars servin' them packs



And e'er nigga know from way back to Houston

Joe's a go when push comes to shootin'

The 44 will loose more then just a tooth, man

A hundred shots will rip your top like where the roof went



I think he said somethin', bring 'em back to me

I let the chopper groove and let the Mack boogie

You better think about it, boy, you better think about it

You better think about it, boy, you better think about it



I got no papers on all them guns

So when I pull 'em out your ass best run, crack

You better think about, boy, you better think about it

You better think about, boy, you better think about it



This ain't for the niggaz hob-nobbin' in closets

This is for them niggaz that supplin' their projects

The man catch beef, say my nigga, I got this

Right in broad day, twist a nigga, then pop shit



I ain't playin', I got big guns

My niggaz barely speak English, they'll lift, son

The strip is mine, naw, you ain't eatin' here

I run this shit, at least in some recent years



And y'all know who rep the streets most

Terror Squad, we put the E in East Coast

So 'Be Easy' like T.I. said

Or them things'll pop up like a Chia pet



Or Chi Ali or any given clapper

Exorcist style, get your heads spun backwards

Them pistols'll go, your brain go splatter

A minute ago you were sayin' you'd get at us



Now why you had to go talk like that?

Get ya body outlined with the chalk like that?

I guess he must've thought I'd have fucked them cats

The oldest rule in the books, you should have brought them gats, now



I think he said somethin', bring 'em back to me

I let the chopper groove and let the Mack boogie

You better think about it, boy, you better think about it

You better think about it, boy, you better think about it



I got no papers on all them guns

So when I pull 'em out your ass best run, crack

You better think about, boy, you better think about it

You better think about, boy, you better think about it