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The Triboro (feat. Fat Joe, O.C. & Remy Ma)

Phenomenon O.C.

Big L, one-three-nine baby

Diggin' In The Crates

Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppinYo, yo, yo

I'm from a place where them niggaz don't, talk no shit

where them wigs get split, where the guns forever click

where the track stars come to warm up for a race

Blue and whites ride by and niggaz yell, "Fuck them Jakes!"

So much respect, I can lay dough on the floor

walk away and come back without cats runnin off

I'm a model hoe's wet dream, in her sleep

Performin X-rated fuck scenes, me goin deep

O.C. the Starchild, let your cameras record

I'm like a man bein honored at the Grammy awards

I pitch lines like fastballs

Mush-out, rap my ass off

Knuckle gaze crumblin your glass jaw

Supreme figure, drink liquor, what team thicker?

"The Big Picture" be the motherfuckin theme nigga

Flamboyant forever, this is how it goes

Pray we don't clap your way when the gats explodeRemi Martin and O.C.Where Brooklyn at?

Yo be-K don't play

Harlem World

Where niggaz get the money all day

Boogie Down Bronx, specialize in gunplay

Triboro, so thorough, alwaysWhere I'm from, dudes get sliced, cause crews is trife

And you might lose your life for your jewels and ice

I'ma slide to the telly and abuse your wife

If I got one rubber, I'ma use it twice

I give young fools advice about the rules of heist

When I rock 'gators, hoes be like, "Them shoes is nice"

Dimes I'm willin to hit, I stay drillin a chick

They all know I ain't shit, but they still on my dick

And I never walk the streets without the vest and the chrome

cause all my jewels be Rocky like Sylvester Stallone

I blast the tech at your dome to leave you restin alone

Go home and puff a fat bag of sess 'til I'm gone

You got this nigga frontin like he the, main event

when his album ain't even last long, it came and went

I'm like Gotti to him, I throw the shotty to him

Niggaz don't want it with L, they like, "Anybody but him!"Hoodied down with the mac - Boogie Down where it's at

Fuck around hear the sound of the gats

want to clown we react.. fuck that

Do you know what you do when you fool with Joey Crack?

I'm - coke on the streets, I'm - open for beef

I'm - hopin you reach so we can go with the heat

I'm - like a nigga that you just can't kill

Niggaz spittin that hot shit, but just ain't real

Uhh - it's like you muh'fuckers frontin for me

Nuttin to see, when I'm the one you wantin to be

Lovin the stee', come through plush in the V

Got niggaz mad cause they pain while we fuckin for free

Make Trizz a household, live what I told

I only speak that true shit that I know (yeah yeah)

Besides y'all don't want it with us

A hundred or plus, killers that be livin to bust

What the fuck?Yo Remi so crazy, rhymes be blazin

Styles just switch like hips on gay men

Trips to the Cayman, rich and famous

Rhymes so hot my spit be flamin

Benz be rimmed up, doo be pinned up

Bitch talk slick whole crew get hemmed up

My shit drastic, all type of tactics

Rip shit flip shit spit shit backwards

Screw you, don't let the pretty face fool you

I kick shit like kung-fu and I, jam like guns do

You got one? I want two like water, I run through

Pyscho - make you want to change your whole mic flow

Floss it, givin bitches lyrical abortions

Stay cautioned - my first shit was just a lil portion

I come back with more shit, playback some raw shit

You can't rock, so I'ma take your spot make you forfeit

Songwriters

JOSEPH CARTAGENA, LAMONT COLEMAN, RODNEY LEMAY, REMY SMITH, OMAR CREDLEPublished by

Lyrics © JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP

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