Breathe and Stop

Album cover art for "Breathe and Stop" by Fat Joe & The Game

Fat Joe & The Game - Rap, USA

Breathe and Stop

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Lyrics

[Intro] Help, Help, Help, Help (Yeah) Help (It's the Profit, It's the profit) Help (East coast, West coast) Help (Cook, cook, cook - Crack) Help Help (Latino Market) Help (You know we got that shit on smash) Help (You writing them checks, go holla at my boy Damon) [Chorus: The Game] All my niggas throw your Dubs up If you ain't from the west side put your guns up Let a shot go nigga Squeeze and pop Let 'em feel it when the baseline drops And all bitches throw your hands up You in the club with your girls Call your man up 'Cause you ain't comin' home mami Breathe and stop Exhale when the baseline drop [Verse 1: Fat Joe] Yeah Ay yo its murder on the streets Killa capitol I'm blasting you For the love of this doe That's what I have to do I'm posted up The corner King They named me Coca Got caught didn't say a thing You're not supposed ta La Costra Nostre Gotti Gang My shotty rang Call it a killers exhibition Let the body hang A real work of art Show your heart I'll blow your smarts Yeah It's the ghetto god Rep the Bronx till I'm gone Was sent to prison You know me homey the chromey's itchin' Leave you holy if you rollin' with some bad intentions 50 pussy Then again you know that And we don't ever see 'em in the hood And they all rats Joey don't give a fuck Toma nigga hold that! Usually found in the kitchen Where the stove at Got that weed, got that coke Get them dope sacks My little man pitchin' Yeah we call him Sandy Koufax [Chorus: The Game] All my niggas throw your Dubs up If you ain't from the west side put your guns up Let a shot go nigga Squeeze and pop Let 'em feel it when the baseline drops And all bitches throw your hands up You in the club with your girls Call your man up 'Cause you ain't comin' home mami Breathe and stop Exhale when the baseline drop [Verse 2: Fat Joe] Lord of war You need a hammer I'll sell you guns Sell coke to Pablo Sell grammar to Pun Stop searching niggas I am the one Pepper spray gangsta's Show you how the iron is slung Now I could play like Kanye and let me chest hairs show Put on them Kool Moe Dee glasses But that just ain't Joe Play shots and then I switch up the flow Like what the blood clot, Boomba clot You ain't fuckin wit Joe Now Mamma love's me Her friend hates me Jealous cause they boyfriends ain't me We getting the baby love Yeah we pain free Ain't nobody's pockets certain, here We paid G's Now listen up You in love with a stripper I fuck her and diss her I give her that mayo You come and you kiss her Nigga, Crack been a G ever since Sit back and watch the money get rinsed Mo' fucker [Chorus: The Game] All my niggas throw your Dubs up If you ain't from the west side put your guns up Let a shot go nigga Squeeze and pop Let 'em feel it when the baseline drops And all bitches throw your hands up You in the club with your girls Call your man up 'Cause you ain't comin' home mami Breathe and stop Exhale when the baseline drop [Outro: Fat Joe] Coca, Game That gangsta, gangsta New York Killer capital

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Credits

Writers
  • The Game
  • Fat Joe