fat joe
preacher on a sunday morning
Kilka, kills mania Get used to this one "Crack" Scotty Oh yeah I'm back on that shit And I say right about now New York City  They say is life and death, there's no future fronting I see a mac and a tec keeping duz coming Coka Joe is a fake Cartagegna Nice with the hands better with the banger Guns I'm no stranger Keep an A.K when I battle probably throw a fake nigga parade. I'm known! But who gives a fuck I don't care Don't lead them let the welfare feed them Niggas had me thinking that Joey is fucked up! Skiddles with the maybachs banging rooftops Life sucks for you maybe the Jew is crazy In the stay pieces to death thanks to who baby  [Chorus:] Stay cleaned up on a preacher on a Sunday morning, I got cake but I need more ice and all I say off the streets I'm a symphony, niggas want my sympathy presiding official remedy Stay cleaned up on a preacher on a Sunday morning  King of New york, King of New York, but we don't ever see these niggas up in New York Can anybody tell me where is San Tropez All these so called killers try their best to dress gay Everybody beefing it's the same old day All these mix-tape rappers now want to claim king Everybody saying they are bringing New York back But we the only niggas you pitch back the back(crack!) You hear the echo, son of a nesto I'll let the tec blow You should feel sky plenty like pistol, fuck a phone call I barely got a whistle  [Chorus:]  Coka, there's no one harder Get off your knees get a job at the Carter Throw a banks and invite your friends You guarantee to see a couple of ends See I've been getting money since who knows when These other niggas just all pretend You've been bamboozled diz duzu say thugs Love at Madison Square they givin' group hugs Now let me take you to the streets of darkness Where I keep your favorite M.C. underneath my armpit the bronze kid I'm only speaking the truth Shit, look what these streets May cologilua do  [Chorus:]