Gangsta Lyrics - Loyalty - Fat Joe

[Intro: Fat Joe] 

Ollie ollie oxen free! 

Like one, two, three 

Red light, green light, one, two, three 

Yo I pop six boxes, play some scalezes 

Pitch the ball I'ma smack that shit 

Yeah, ohhhhhh, going. going 

Yeah yeah what up son? 

Yo I got this twenty two nigga play me like. 

Nah, I ain't got no bullets 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Top two for five, three for five, we rollin! 

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[Fat Joe] 

Now I'm in too deep 

Only sixteen already hold a name in the street 

Makin the fifth scream, rockin older niggas to sleep 

Make a fiend strip naked cuz he owed for a week 

Now the Squad's getting recognized, supplyin connects with pies 

Pumpin pounds of weight, nigga like exercise 

Joe been over quarter five dope and homicide 

Long before Charlie got knocked, until Madonna died 

Young and not givin a fuck 

There ain't a nigga I ain't hit when I buck and left 'em shit outta luck 

I'ma gangsta like my daddy was, hittin number spots 

Sendin me to my room while he was puffin pot 

Still I use to peak from the door, couldn't believe what I saw 

Stacks of money on the bed and the floor 

It wasn't long til I did what he did 

I was an innocent kid and got exposed to the life that he lived 

I went from grams into O's, pounds to bricks 

On the strip pimpin hoes on some goldie shit 

I'ma gangsta by destiny, OG's selected me 

I earned my spot, my whole team elected me 

Photos 

[Chorus: children singing] 

Gangsta, gangsta 

I wanna be a gangsta 

My daddy was a gangsta 

Gangsta, gangsta 

I wanna be a gangsta 

My daddy was a gangsta 

[Fat Joe] 

Yeah, unh, yo, unh 

Here goes this chick doing ten in the bing 

But 'less we rhyme time we see her do it again 

She started out fuckin dudes that resembled her father 

Mom knew shoulda schooled her but the bitch didn't bother 

You couldn't blame her cuz she got it from her 

She was a rider from jump, her pop's died in the hands of a chump 

Now she's mad at the world, no more daddy's little girl 

Now she's rockin bandanas, no more Shirley Temple girl 

Now she be runnin wit some scramblers that be down in Alabama 

Packin twin hammers, screamin "Life doesn't matter" 

It's a vicious cycle, her game is pretending to like you 

Thinkin you getting head but she's just duckin so they can snipe you 

Movin from state to state, runnin everything from guns to trains 

and pushing packs from eight to eight 

You know I can't say her name but she was a looker 

Pretty thing, such a shame how this life has took her 

Now she's raising hell in the cell, no more his are hollering 

You might suffer the same fate if you repeat the following. 

Sell drugs, use drugs, get caught up in the mix 

End up locked up or dead in a casket, that's it 

[Chorus]