FAT JOE


Walk On By Lyrics

Yes indeed, what the deal?
This is the world famous Kid Capri
Up here with my man Joey Crack
Joey Crack got this new joint coming out
Yo Joey, tell 'em what the name of this joint is

This is for the hoes and bitches
A-yo what about all the young ladies
The positive young ladies
Like I said, this is dedicated to the hoes and bitches
Speak on it man

This ain't for the intelligent civilized divas
For all the hoes and bitches who swallow nut by the liters
Two months pregnant madd dick pokin' the fetus
But she don't give a damn still suckin' dick for sneakers

You know the type, damn dirty is right
She even did it with dice and made a dildo of ice
A-yo it's like the hiest move ya phat ass to gain
And if you love me baby girl, give my friends some entertainment
(Yo that's foul Joe)

Hey yo, I treat 'em how they act yo
Behave like a hooker and played like a mad hoe
Rumor has it that you take it in the asshole
And wrap ya lips around my dick like a lasso

I love the way you hold that Joe Crack Bozak
While niggas bone that, my stomach's where ya nose at
Just another hoe in the midst
That does more than kiss when we start pourin' the 'cris

All you bitches be f**kin' for money
Playin' niggas but they can't get shit from me
You ain't smokin' my lye, pushin' my ride
And if you ain't f**kin' just walk on by
All you bitches just walk on by

I once knew a girl by the name of Savannah
Met her backstage at a show in Atlanta
Seemed like a nice girl, class and well-mannered
When I took her to the hotel the bitch went bananas

Did my eyes decieve me, was she suckin' three pee-pee's?
Caught it all on tape so I could watch it late on TV
Couldn't wait to beep me, started in the car
Shorty caught the quick train from the Trinity stars

Big Joe'll railroad, any frail hoe
Have a bitch scream and yell throwin' elbows
Now who the hell knows, why these girls f**k for cell phones
Turnin' tricks for material shit

Now bust it, you wanna hit it, gotta pay top dollar
These chics is hot rodders, with grips like Rottwilers
But why bother, picture me payin' a fee
I'll just play like Akinyle and f**k these hoes for free

All you bitches be f**kin' for money
Playin' niggas but they can't get shit from me
You ain't smokin' my lye, pushin' my ride
And if you ain't f**kin' just walk on by
All you bitches just walk on by

Picture B, more on the floor on all fours
Mind must've lost yours, never been tossed
Tour, that's what I do for ones, not whore
Baby that's what I do for fun

Now I dread that I gave you head
All because them four double A duracells went dead
My vibrator, huh, playa hatin' on me
Thinking you can hit this and get away scott free

Now you boomeranged, alI wanted was some action
Brought my own Brenton, got my own mansion
Now you off tryin' to front to yo niggas
'Cuz I blew ya back out and got my own figgas

Please, you was just something to do
Had a camcorder too, how you like that boo?
You mad? 'Cuz I hit that and vanished
Or 'cuz you on tape screamin' 'Charli Baltimore' in Spanish

All you bitches be f**kin' for money
Playin' niggas but they can't get shit from me
You ain't smokin' my lye, pushin' my ride
And if you ain't f**kin' just walk on by
All you bitches just walk on by

Just walk on by
See ya later, yeah
You scandulous hoe

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Songwriter(s): Charli Baltimore, T. Lane, Joseph Cartagena, Anthony Best
Publisher(s): Still Digging Music, Un Rivera Publishing, Universal Music - Mgb Songs, BMG Music, Inky-sisi Music, Jelly'S Jams LLC, Joseph Cartagena Music
Record Label(s): 1998 Atlantic Records Marketed by Rhino Entertainment Company, a Warner Music Group Company
Official lyrics by

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