Released: February 13, 1996

Featuring: Big Pun Armageddon Raekwon

Songwriter: Fat Joe Big Pun Raekwon Armageddon

Producer: Born Lords

[Intro]
(4:30 in the morning) Mira
(You know what I mean) Mira
Dame este culo, mami
(Give me my shit back, mira) Hey, yo
Fat Joe and them is here now, word
(Shine like marbles) Collects diamonds
(The remix) Yo, add on, son
Politic for the real ones (Yo)

[Chorus: Raekwon]
We gettin' knots like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Yo, control this rap like Napoleon, half-Mongolian
Hold it, you owe me in, rock 'em like linoleum, yeah
Lex, diamonds, shinin' like you rhymin', 929-in'
Titanium glass, time to play that ass
Whirlwinds of French, come movin' intense
Time to pull again, release the shell, well, make 'em yell again
So sleek, but I'ma be maxin' in suites
Countin' your paper and countin' your sheeps
Hittin' your chick in Jeeps
Miraculously attack your faculty
Who wanna tackle me? You Jack Mack, kidnap 'em for free
What? You got heat, you better pop those
We movin' like gestapos through underground potholes
That rock those, much land discoveries
Chrome rims, sippin' bubbly
Who livin' lovely? Half a brick to cover me
So dissin' me, come on now, listen, G
You's a dime, I'm a key
Thun-thun, straight out of Sicily
Now back to the stash crib
Joey Crack baggin' up cracks
One love, give 'em G-Packs, kids

[Chorus: Raekwon]
We gettin' knots like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

[Verse 2: Fat Joe]
Word, life, I'll be the infamous
Who leaves no witnesses, crack's the wickedest
Run up in your crib, blast your kids
Ain't no myth in this, shit's official
I'll pistol-whip you with my Smith & Wesson
'Cause my obsession with sendin' rappers to Heaven gives me an erection
You need protection from the smooth assassin
Who really moves at action, blastin' mothafuckas
Execution fashion
Now who's the fat one that you love to hate?
Catch you at your mother's wake, smack you
Then I'll wack you with my snub .38
It doesn't take much to make me restless
Look at my face and definite lose your breath
Truck up, my face is Lexus
You want to test this, so really?
I'll make one call and have the whole Wu comin' on the ferry
I'm very dangerous and well-connected
I puff an L with Method
Then try to decide who's next to fill his neck slit
So respected and admired, the boss retired, you lost
Wu-Tang, your Terror Squad, vaya con Dios

[Chorus: Raekwon]
We gettin' knots like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

[Verse 3: Armageddeon]
You guys despise guys like us
Guys like us, disgust like Spartacus
You cuss and claim a bust
You lust for a part of us, you thrust, but can't touch
Plus, we far from any type of fellas you can trust
Put the pressure on the mic, I biz press to your chest
Sound like sweat on my back, we're having sex, tight-ass flex
Pretty Pocahontas, pussy sweet like my new TEC
Sis' got curves like a GS, 300 Lex
My body's 95% alcohol, 5% cancer
Sosa diamonds, Getty, Lucci, blaze it up like Bonanza
Catch me in the cut, easy G's is burnin' my gut
As I remember my menage-à-trois was minded by sluts
I question-mark your heart, punctuate your fate
All your verbs and predicates done as well as you pronunciate
N-O-F, we're gonna break you off the isle
Take C.O.s hostage Arab style, no surrender

[Chorus: Raekwon]
We gettin' knots like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

[Verse 4: Big Punisher]
Yo, I'm all about business and enterprisin'
Advisin' financial advisors on franchisin' to widen their horizons
Divisin' ideas with master-minders
Movin' on a stash with Diamonds
First we get the cash, then we laugh like mynas
Don't get me wrong, I'm a funny bastard
But when it come to money, done, I'm not the one to laugh with
I'm after for what cash can bring me, brothers
Me and my demon lovers blast and laugh like hyenas
Back to Ringling Brothers
Believe them others you're the best
Yes, and still I'm investin' mils on a hunch over lunch
Puffin' on a Chesterfield
Who want test the real scandalous?
I'm at the Sands in Los Angeles
Plannin' hits with anonymous philanthropists
Spanish kids, close to God like evangelists
Choppin' niggas up and makin' sandwiches

[Chorus: Raekwon]
We gettin' knots like stockbrokers who own Marriotts
Blast shots for all my niggas who splash cops
The rich Corleone camp is here, thousand and one
Corner son, fake a jack, you be a goner

Fat Joe

Fat Joe is an American rapper, entrepreneur and archetype. He is also the CEO of Terror Squad Entertainment, and member of musical groups D.I.T.C. and Terror Squad, which has artists such as Big Pun and Tony Sunshine. His most popular song in was his Remy Martin duet Lean Back produced by Scott Storch and released under Terror Squad. The song was a number-one hit in the summer of 2004. He has released a total of 10 albums, and soon to be 11 with his new collaborative album with Remy Ma, entitled Plata O Plomo, which will be supported by the single All The Way Up. The song peaked at number 27 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100. It is Fat Joe’s first top 40 hit since his 2007 hit I Won’t Tell, as well as the first top 40 for Remy Ma and Infared as solo artists. In France, “All the Way Up” has peaked at number 85, becoming Fat Joe’s first chart entry in that country since 2002’s What’s Luv?, featuring Ashanti. On August 8, 2016, the song was certified Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) for selling over one million copies in the United States.