Songtext The aroma Fat Joe

The aroma

If you played with Joe, Pun
Or any of these Spanish niggas comin' up in this game
Your ass was gettin' handed to you

All the way in Rome, I can still smell it (All the way in Rome I can smell it)
On Amalfi Coast, we can still smell it (Amalfi Coast, I can smell it)
We all in Dubai, l can smell it (Smell it)
Kilos out the plastic, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)
Glass pipes burnin', I can still smell it (I can still smell it, Crack)
I still smell it (Wooooo)
If it was cooked in my kitchen
Then call it by my name
Most of these rappers say they shit like mine (Yeah, uh, uh, uh)
But it do not feel the same, no

Ooh la la la, is what the fiends scream
This MJ and Prince, the supreme team (Huh)
Indoor pools filled with cocaine
Fiends dancin' in line like a Soul Train
I hustle like a pastor's plate, we takin' offers
Your bitch took to masturbate, she can't come off of us
This the life that we chose to make, pies that we chose to bake
Life with no parole, time that we chose to take (Bombaclat)Handin' out turkeys surrounded by all the killers
And all the corner boys got gifted the chinchillas (Uh)
You had to be there, that's word to Albee Square
It's foul how I robbed a whole gym, no referee there
Marty Supreme how I peddle that dope
True story, made a hundred million off of the stove, it's Crack

All the way in Rome, I can still smell it (All the way in Rome I can smell it)
On Amalfi Coast, we can still smell it (Amalfi Coast, I can smell it)
We all in Dubai, l can smell it (Smell it)
Kilos out the plastic, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)
Glass pipes burnin', I can still smell it (I can still smell it)
I still smell it (Wooooo)
If it was cooked in my kitchen
Then call it by my name
Most of these rappers say they shit like mine
But it do not feel the same, no (Ha-haa)

I don't really think you would do it, you gotta show me
When niggas lose track of the time throw 'em a Rollie
Incase we commit a crime, go get a stollie
A OG, I'm more like Juan than Anunoby
B.I.G, Frank Matthews, a splash of Kobe
Bruce Lee, Muhammad Ali, half shinobi
I been obliterating niggas for years
Is this about a verse, or is this about a career?
Ask around, they'll tell you I'm the career repo
New York love me like when Mitch hit a pair of free-throws
I was sellin' dope when they used to call it P-blow
Fuck rap, I'm just happy I ain't catch a RICO
Hear it, then you hear it again, and it hit you more
The flow sick, but you wouldn't know cause of HIPAA laws
Before we used to go to the tables, we hit the stores
Get the stamps, Carvel spoons, go get the straws
Summa cum laude, heroin diploma
Know me, I get excited off the aroma, toma

All the way in Rome, I can still smell it (All the way in Rome I can smell it)
On Amalfi Coast, we can still smell it (Amalfi Coast, I can smell it)
We all in Dubai, l can smell it (Smell it)
Kilos out the plastic, I can still smell it (I can still smell it)
Glass pipes burnin', I can still smell it (I can still smell it)
I still smell it (Wooooo)
If it was cooked in my kitchen
Then call it by my name
Most of these rappers say they shit like mine
But it do not feel the same, no