That White

Fat Joe, Joe Crack, shit's all the same
 Old rusty ass block from which I came
 Fat boy big dreams, Mac-10, the vest
 When Mac-10 shoot teams try to shoot up the set
 But I'm a G nigga, I'll loosen the Tec
 Wet the whole block, sip Grey Goose in the jet
 Pzhooom... back to the Boogie
 Backpack rappers they should have a plaque in the Boogie
 of me!!! You know why? Number one hustler
 I opened up the floodgates, my "Flow Joe" customers
 We all about the gunplay
 but still take time out to pray every Sunday
 The watch is sick, the chain is Alaska
 Whip so many (P's) now they callin me the +Master+
 UNGHHHH! Thank God for that white
 I've been slingin it all day, we cookin it all night
 It's on with the don, never let shit slide
 Have your ass wear a patch like Slick Rick's side
 Talk money, there's so much money, I can't even count
 Gotta put it on a scale, ten grand weigh a ounce
 Same corner all week, got the scene closed off
 Should be draft in the league the way I pass those off
 Coca! Now you know it's me
 I was always G, you a sometimes thug
 You fake hustle in your hustle and you sometimes drug
 You ask if a nigga kill yeah I sometimes does, CRACK!
 Primo whattup my nigga, ha ha
 We had to touch it again you heard me
 "Shit Is Real" you heard me
 Shit on these fuck-boys, you heard me?
 Thank God for that whiiiiiiiite
 Crack! Coca! Krillz-mania
 Macho whattup nigga?
 (Big L rest in peace...)