Bronx Keeps Creating It Songtext

von Fat Joe

"Bronx keeps creating it.." -> KRS-One {cut and scratched}
The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!
"Bronx keeps creating it.." -> KRS-One {cut and scratched}
The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!

Aiyyo I said yes yes y'all-n, to the beat all-n
Always been no peace so I never like to ball in
But I maintain and keep a grip on the mic
And say a punchline that'll get the crowd hyped, RIGHT
I never could determine who's the best
It was either KRS or that nigga Lord Finesse
But now I maintain that's with my own career
Joe gettin gold dough or somethin wrong in here
Cause everybody knows I got the skills to pay the bills
Plus I got the flow cause you know +The *Hit is Real+
What? Top notch, I give you nuttin but the raw talent
But don't fake jax and make me have to get violent
You wouldn't like it when I flip the script
Cause when I flip the script, my glock can have an empty clip
Yeah, straight from the Ave of Trinity
I hate it when a juvenile tries to prove his masculinity
I got the whole vicinity locked down
Police hate it, look what they done to Tupac now
You make me wanna blast or somethin
But for now I keep infiltratin these crews that be frontin
And all these other MC's be hatin it
Because the Bronx keeps creatin it, rock on

"Bronx keeps creating it.." -> KRS-One {cut and scratched}
The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!
"Bronx keeps creating it.." -> KRS-One {cut and scratched}
The bigger nigga from the Bronx, Fat Joe!

Aiyyo I'm comin on de dance with de spliff of sensei
The name is Fat Joe and the crew is BDP
Ninety-three, was the year that I debuted it
Representin, for all my niggaz gettin booted
Now who is the number one +Boricua on the Set+?
When in San Fran' I go check Sway and Tech
Otherwise I live the real live back in the BX
Known for transformin on rappers like I'm Jesus
You didn't know I order hits and what not?
Don't make me have to let the dogs loose
And hear the two-per shot, BOO-YA
Ain't it funny how nobody really cares
One minute you're here, the next minute you're under there
Word to Christ, I put out your lights
Every stripe's precise, K.O.'s in all fights
Fatal like Joe with this murderous flow
The Bronx keeps creatin it, you know how that go, peace