Misery Needs Company lyrics

by

Diddy


[Spoken Intro: Noreaga & Fat Joe]
Yo, Crack man, n*ggas just got word from the penal, god
What the deal Nore, got word from the penal?
How n*ggas doin'?
n*ggas sayin'... n*ggas sayin' that they sh*ttin' on your name and sh*t, yo
sh*t - sh*ttin' on my name? f*ck they talkin' about?
Snitchin' and sh*t like that
Nah, that must be some nondescript n*ggas, not nobody I run wit'?
Word is bond, they said n*ggas you used ta... break bread with, god
Yo, f*ck them n*ggas, word to mother!

[Verse 1: Fat Joe]
Yo, yo, one's for the cash, two's for my faculty
Three's for all the M-3's
Racin' across the Tappan Zee
Matchin C's? followed by the white Lincoln
Drivin' like I ain't thinkin'
Wit my hazard lights blinkin', let the lah sink in
On the way to home BASE
First clown in my face is gettin' thrown out the place
We run sh*t, untouchable Don sh*t, that's nothin' new
Sets with stone arms just to muscle you, enough of you
That had a bad case of Joe, some even had to go
Gangsta walk and nines, at times I be the last to know
We laugh and joke, while we baggin' the coke
My yay done make the worst things out the cast of Different Strokes
I'm addicted to street life, although it doesn't seem right
Many criticize but yo we all go to eat right?
And who's to say that I'm to blame (Blame)
We only pawns in this game (Game)
The streets don't grow cocaine
I don't want no cure for this, you switch, I pour the Cris
And just, stay rich, and reminisce, while I count my chips
[Chorus: N.O.R.E.]
Yo, you scared to death, misery need company
These crab slackers, n*ggas actin' like they mad rappers
Even wit a record deal, our guns still peal
Break a piece of your brain off, wipe the stain off
Throw the Range off, police-iano
Watch for hondo, they lookin' at our poster now
Playin' us closer now
The funds follow us, what, these b*tches swallow us
And you wonder why you can't find us

[Verse 2: Fat Joe]
Attended dinner wit millionaires, gave a million stares
Made a million scared, my peops was locked
For what seemed like a million years, yea
This illegal life I can't avoid, I take the feds everywhere I go
That's why I'm paranoid,
But still I choose to ignore the fact
I got the flawless Acs wit gats to get that enormous stack
Joey Crack, the Mack without the hat
And all our hoes that'll ride in the back seat of my Cadillac
I bet you hate it cuz we paid and floss, n*gga we laid and lost
T.S.'ll make the baddest crews take a loss
Break your balls like Bahondo, call me Don Joe
Coke slash ready rock, n*ggas drop a dime dough
Booked the nine o'clock, flight to Alando
So-called killers turned snitches like Gravano
That n*gga Gauno up in M-C, is bein' friendly
Everytime I see his wife and kids the sh*t tempts me
My heart is empty, never feelin' remorse
I got a sniper one building a cross ready to kill your boss
[Chorus: N.O.R.E.]
Yo, you scared to death, misery need company
These crab slackers, n*ggas actin' like they mad rappers
Even wit a record deal, our guns still peal
Break a piece of your brain off, wipe the stain off
Throw the Range off, police-iano
Watch for hondo, they lookin' at our poster now
Playin us closer now
The funds follow us, what, these b*tches swallow us
And you wonder why you can't find us

[Verse 3: N.O.R.E.]
Yo, yo Jose Luis, smoke lah like the reverend
Look in the skies, clouds look like coke 'n heaven
Like whoever sittin' on pies too, gettin' high too
Mad fly too, a thug too
Yo we praise those, however you make your pesos
Keep your sh*t tight just like, Jose Canseco's
Batting stance, a majorly we glance
And gotta yell "What, What!"
Cuz thug n*ggas don't dance yo
I told n*ggas, that you did it for show
But n*ggas thought you was ill, yo
Even your ho, yo for real youngblood I'm really afraid so
Your colors got revealed and now you buy dough
Impost-o's, locos, morenos, go-golos, boriquas, Latinos
My n*ggas rollin' those, fontos and hydros
You know how that goes, DE's light it up though
We stay smokin' it, Tone Loc'in it
Me and Fat Joe still provoking it
[Chorus: N.O.R.E.]
Yo, you scared to death, misery need company
These crab slackers, n*ggas actin' like they mad rappers
Even wit a record deal, our guns still peal
Break a piece of your brain off, wipe the stain off
Throw the Range off, police-iano
Watch for hondo, they lookin' at our poster now
Playin us closer now
The funds follow us, what, these b*tches swallow us
And you wonder why you can't find us

[Outro]
(Ha ha, mad rappers, stain off, range off, watch out
Polic-iano's, pabolos
Amigos, Fat Joe, Fat Joe, Fat Joe, yea yea)
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