Terror Era Lyrics - Terror Squad

[Intro - guy talking] 

Aiyyo Joe man what's good man 

Aiyyo I hear niggaz poppin shit 

They runnin off to the Jakes man 

They talkin like you ain't hood nigga 

What's really gangsta nigga 

What up what's poppin man 

Aiyyo fuck these niggaz man 

Let these niggaz do 88 

[Fat Joe] 

(yeah uh what uh yo yo) 

Migga tryin to change the Ragine, I won't have that 

Step in the club in Manhat at 

And it feel like sat down, Jose the flow is cocaine 

Niggaz even got the nerve tryin to clone the name 

It's the kid wit a thousand aliases, the hood knows 

Shit nowadays got niggaz callin me cooked coke 

I rise to the to the top and I lay it down quite flat 

You can battle me up and get your money right back 

Crack niggaz clap niggaz wit the fo' kid 

The newspaper shit 

Known for crackin niggaz jaws 

And I don't go to court, I talk wit the hawk 

Have a forensics specialist outline your corks 

About time we fought man 

I'm tired of this rumor shit, ya whole life's a lie 

Let you slide but you ruin it, we the guys doin it 

You only pretend 

Shoot the place to merk off in my loyalty rims 

Nigga what 

[guy talking] 

Yeah yeah that's what's up my nigga 

I see these niggaz ain't fuckin wit you though 

But what's up wit these niggaz though man 

These niggaz is ridin around in fuckin benzes and shit 

Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts 

Yea man show these niggaz what your 1's like man 

What's up 

[Fat Joe] 

I gets duece 5 a show, do 5 a week 

Let y'all do the math, that's aight for me 

Shit never claim to be the richest but the truth is 

Livest nigga you've ever seen in show biz 

And you know this, notice the dime is poppin 

Hold the masterpiece watch the Don be coppin 

I'm like Gunny from Dead Pres' 

Put the gun in your mouth and tell you how lucky you are to break bread 

I'm tired of sonnin niggaz that don't believe us 

I'm at ya life savers alone wit my sneakers 

I went from humble beginners to ownin the Jimmy's 

Fuckin wit women that only want me for winnin 

Only for homey sittin, scuse me but don't be shittin 

I'm only bonin the bitch is if y'all could be gettin 

Nigga what!! 

[guy talking] 

Yeah that's what's up Crack 

But what's up wit that bitch when she gonna drop yo 

What's up wit Remy man 

Where that bitch at man 

Yeah man 

Everytime I look around man I don't see no Remy man 

Niggaz in the hood want you to call this bitch out man 

What's up man 

[Remy Martin] 

Yo I don't give a fuck 

I don't play that shit 

And I feel to bust a cap on a nigga 

I run up wit a gat on a nigga 

Cock back on a nigga 

Like Rem's that bitch and Crack's that nigga 

For every word I spit I get ass cat figures 

So fuck ass clappin, I'll clap yo ass nigga 

And chick is so funny cause I gets gully 

Rocks throwbacks and fitteds nigga, hoodies and skullies 

Am I fist is a pack on my wrist is a Jacob 

And I gotta a "mac" and I don't mean make up 

Sellin pies on da block like, I sell aranathum 

Do you want it raw? Or do want me to bake em? 

Get the bag it cut it shop it fuck it it's mothin 

Got the product the power and the will to do the hustle 

Shit it's sicker than vomit, I swear to God it's disgustin 

Hot an' fresh out the kitchen so these bitches can't touch it 

You gotta love it I'm buggin word to my cousin Tequila 

Slap the shit outta any bitch interferin wit my scrilla 

See a nigga he can get it too, fuck what your dick a do 

Even if I stuttered I will still "shi shi shit on you" 

My nigga L.V.