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Artist: Fat Joe f/ Pooh Bear
Album:  The Elephant in the Room
Song:   Preacher on a Sunday Morning
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

[Intro: Fat Joe]
Coca, Krillz-mania
Get used to this one, CRACK~!
Scotty! Oh yeah I'm back on that shit
And I say right about now New York City

[Fat Joe
They say it's life or death, there's no future frontin
I say a Mac and a Tec could keep them dudes from comin
Coca, Joseph A. Cartagegna
Nice with the hands, better with the banger
Guns I'm no stranger; keep an AK
When I die they'll probably throw a fake nigga parade
I'm knowin! But who gives a fuck, I don't care
Don't lead them let the welfare feed 'em
Niggaz had me thinking that Joey is fucked up
Skitles with the Maybachs, Phantom rooftop
Life sucks for you maybe the Jews crazy
Interstate pieces to death thanks to Whoo, baby

[Chorus: Pooh Bear]
I stay cleaner than a preacher on a Sunday mornin
I got cake but I need more ice and ballin
I'll stay, the orchestrator of my symphony
Niggaz want my sympathy, percent of preacher remedy
Still cleaner than a preacher on a Sunday mornin

[Fat Joe]
And I say right about now
Yeah, yo
King of New York, King of New York
But we don't ever see these niggaz up in New York
Can anybody tell me where San Tropei?
All these so called killers try their best to dress gay
Everybody beefin it's the same all day
All these mixtape rappers now want to claim king
Everybody sayin they bringin New York back
But we the only niggaz y'all pitch back to back, Crack!
Ki-ki, ka-crack crack, you hear the echo
Son of Ernesto, I'll let the Tec blow
You should fear us, got plenty like pistol
Fuck a phone call, I barely gotta whistle NIG-GA


[Fat Joe]
Yeah, yo, yo
Coca, there's no one harder
Get off your knees get a job at the Carter
Throw a bake sale, invite your friends
You guaranteed to see a couple of ends
See I've been gettin money since who knows when
These other niggaz is all pretend
You've been bamboozled, these dudes is fake thugs
Live at Madison Square they givin group hugs
Now let me take you through the streets of darkness
Where I keep your favorite emcee underneath my armpit
The Bronx kid, I'm only speaking the truth, shit
Look what these streets made Kollage and them do

"A Bronx Tale"... and I say right about now New York City
It's the corner block hugger, Coca, Crack
Fuck got a name like Crack nigga?
If you don't know it's multi-millions here
Real nigga shit here

[Chorus - over last 6 lines from Fat Joe]