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Fat Joe - Yellow Tape Lyrics



Fat Joe - Yellow Tape Lyrics




Attention please, attention please
This feel like the whole entire world collapse

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it

This that yellow tape shit, me I'm bout to go ape shit
Got 8 chicks on 8 mollies and they about to take 8 trips
Dice game, 8 tricks, got a use to rocking from jay prince
She get it popping, I'm a send her shopping
And that ain't even my main bitch
I'm a vicious, live action, smoking Joe, I'm high jacking
Working though, have my dough, I be there
Fly Jackson, sin city, KOD, hunned thousand, all in once
Versace jacket, Versace shoes, Versace shades, I got a thousand suns
Mama you the shit I bet you cogno
Why you f*cking with him? Even his car broke
We rocking bout manes step to the cargoes
Your bitch so thirsty cause she a mogul

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it

Call me Joey, I'm a bad ass, Harlem world like Baghdad
Come through with a black flag, some Supreme Vans and the half cabs
Bitch is on her pad-add, f*ck her with her fat ass
I get gets, my dick licked, my friends hit, that's swag, swag
What the f*ck you mean? I been sipping clean, sipping lean
Alexander Wang that's the f*cking jeans, triple beam
When I serve the fiends, hit you with the beam chopper scream
Leave a nigga dead, f*cking with the team, magazine
Choo-choo that train go
Drink slow, my chain gold
Soo woop where your true blue, don't get your block, yellow tape though
8 bricks get it shaved off
Yeen' Ho Yeen' know
Range Rove or the bank roll
I shoot you and change clothes

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it

Montana!

You know we loaded with the choppers by the hunder boy
When you talk about that work you niggas unemployed
White work I got it, brown work I got it
2 chains, show your titties ho, damn right I got it
Just copped about 8 bricks
Just copped about 8 whips
Cop work for the same mit
Your ho stash like 9 knicks
Smoked that loud but keep it quiet, let that money talk
Get that brown bag and I skate off like I'm Tony Hawk
Bitch drop my cock back, your bitch look I slide that
To the south Bronx and I pop that
She call you for that ride back
South Bronx we got it, Joe crack we got it
Black card, no limit ho
Now I'm right, we bout to poke

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Attention please, attention please
This feel like the whole entire world collapse

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it

This that yellow tape shit, me I'm bout to go ape shit
Got 8 chicks on 8 mollies and they about to take 8 trips
Dice game, 8 tricks, got a use to rocking from jay prince
She get it popping, I'm a send her shopping
And that ain't even my main bitch
I'm a vicious, live action, smoking Joe, I'm high jacking
Working though, have my dough, I be there
Fly Jackson, sin city, KOD, hunned thousand, all in once
Versace jacket, Versace shoes, Versace shades, I got a thousand suns
Mama you the shit I bet you cogno
Why you f*cking with him? Even his car broke
We rocking bout manes step to the cargoes
Your bitch so thirsty cause she a mogul

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it

Call me Joey, I'm a bad ass, Harlem world like Baghdad
Come through with a black flag, some Supreme Vans and the half cabs
Bitch is on her pad-add, f*ck her with her fat ass
I get gets, my dick licked, my friends hit, that's swag, swag
What the f*ck you mean? I been sipping clean, sipping lean
Alexander Wang that's the f*cking jeans, triple beam
When I serve the fiends, hit you with the beam chopper scream
Leave a nigga dead, f*cking with the team, magazine
Choo-choo that train go
Drink slow, my chain gold
Soo woop where your true blue, don't get your block, yellow tape though
8 bricks get it shaved off
Yeen' Ho Yeen' know
Range Rove or the bank roll
I shoot you and change clothes

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it

Montana!

You know we loaded with the choppers by the hunder boy
When you talk about that work you niggas unemployed
White work I got it, brown work I got it
2 chains, show your titties ho, damn right I got it
Just copped about 8 bricks
Just copped about 8 whips
Cop work for the same mit
Your ho stash like 9 knicks
Smoked that loud but keep it quiet, let that money talk
Get that brown bag and I skate off like I'm Tony Hawk
Bitch drop my cock back, your bitch look I slide that
To the south Bronx and I pop that
She call you for that ride back
South Bronx we got it, Joe crack we got it
Black card, no limit ho
Now I'm right, we bout to poke

This that yellow tape shit, they keep running out of it
We just sold like 8 bricks, we ain't running out of it
This our f*cking hood bitch, wind your ass up out of it
This gun come with 8 clips, shoot til I run out of it

Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
Work, work, work, I got it
I got it, I got it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: RAKIM MAYERS, ISAAC HAYES, JOSEPH CARTAGENA, DAVID PORTER, WILLIAM LEWIS, DWAYNE CARTER, KARMIN KHARBOUCH, ROJEAN O'NEAL, SHANDEL GREEN, RAY ILLYA FRASER
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, SILVER FOX MUSIC GROUP, BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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