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lirik lagu definition of a don – fat joe

yeah, definition of a don
it’s like i gotta keep remindin’ you and remindin’ you
who’s that n-gg-, you heard the kid
fly was on the casket of all those who oppose the squad us
it’s the motherf-ckin’ don cartagena ya heard
what?

they wanna know why ya name is joey crack
you a hustler, how they think you got the stacks?
you stuck being in jacks on the blocks with your paps
and the squad to hard n-gg-z gotta fall back
d-mn papi, you’re sh-t is icey now
in the bronx witcha benz rims pokin’ out
you got the n-gg-z in the pen straight lockin’ out
but when the don is on n-gg- close your mouth

yeah, yo, you wouldn’t understand my story of life i live
most n-gg-z that really know me got life as bids
the trife as kids, this ain’t no scarface sh-t
these n-gg-z really will kill you, your wife and kids
i walked through many blocks n-gg-z couldn’t stand on
had sh-t locked before i had a glock to even put my hands on
before i had the doe to put my fams on
before i had rocks sealed in pink tops, tryin’ to get a gram off
a wild adolescent, raised by the street

mesmerized by the dealers and the places they eat
and when they blazed the heat, i was the shorty to take the hand off
run upstairs, tryin’ to sneak the gat past grand moms
this is how it should be done, my life
is identical to none, son tried to duplicate but i knew he was fake
‘cuz every time i walked by he turned blue in the face
i’m like heavy on the leg when i pop
all my change is like heavy on the weight when i cop
it’s just the way it’s done
n-gg-z tell me they respect the way i blaze them guns
on hold it down for the bronx in the name of pun

yeah, my name ring bells like a p o
put the pressure on a n-gg- like i’m right at the doe
with the muzzle out, n-gg- can’t shoke with my dough
i’m at his mothers house
beat up his pops, put the pistol in his brother’s mouth
wave bricks, whips, jerked a few c-ke and next play the strip
with chrome knowin’ that they won’t forget
and on the weekends we shut down clubs
you know them crazy peurto ricans always f-ckin’ it up
if i can’t afford it, i’m a extort it

if i can’t cut it, i’m a bake it
strip you n-gg-z b-tt-naked, i’m a thorough bred
carry guns and pump heroin
never went o.t. i’m too light for maryland
i’d rather play the streets of new york
where the friends are guaranteed
to keep the meat on my fork
i’m just a hustler, feds put the tap
on our phones in hopes of cuffin’ us
then wonder why we livin’ life so ill-strious

- fat joe

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