Yeah Yeah Yeah Lyrics - Terror Squad

[Remy Martin] 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Check it 

[Verse One: Remy Martin] 

You see the girl get it popping like no other 

Now they call me Streets cause I, be on the block and I'm so gutter 

My flow a butter; see Rem got a whole lot of game 

But none of why'all lame dudes going to fuck her 

I'm on some chill shit 

But if you fronting then I will flip 

I'll give it to a little chick real quick 

Oh you a real bitch? You ain't a bit real 

You got little tits and your face looks like Emmitt Till 

First I'm a get it hot, then I'm a get a deal 

My budget none stop, mine paying 10 mills 

And when I'm not in the hood, I'm rocking the hood 

Smoke Vanilla dutches and stuff on Holly-a-wood 

And if I, pollyin the dick it's got to be good 

I tell him I could change his life just like the lottery could 

And now I got him good, he believes me and he should 

Some dudes won't go down but a lot of them would 

I know this nigga name, Eat-it-out, he like to eat it out 

I just cooked in the crib and he still want to eat it out (Damn!) 

Oh God its Remy Martin 

In a hot pink Porsche with the purple carpets 

Nigga! 

[Hook: Remy Martin] 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah 

[Remy] 

Oh God! 

[Verse Two: Fat Joe] 

Hot enough swinging Crack, who could believe he's in the cockpit (cockpit) 

Overseas moving ki's like a locksmith (yeah) 

Rocks from Witsick in the sits of neck (ok) 

All I do is warn cause that's the big boy jet (ok) 

Uh, you never rocked with the are in Chicago (noo!) 

I picked up a bad bitch in a Marcielago (noo!) 

I got cribs better year estates man (man) 

I'm in L.A. with Atlanta plates fam (fam) 

Still niggaz want to go against Crack (Crack!) 

But that's like ??? going against Shaq (Shaq!) 

And that's too much diesel, I got too much people (people) 

Motherfuckers, you crazy I'll leave you (leave you!) 

And I ain't got to tell how many sets I trip 

But you can find me on the woods now that's a testament 

Or maybe at a lounge with an extra bitch 

Eyecandy of the month, God damn she sick! 

She got a problem, I can help her with that 

Tell her man that she's fuckin with Crack 

Bet he won't do nothin (nope) 

Frontin like he gon' do somethin (nope) 

Quick to tell you that his whole crew stunting (talk to him!) 

Talk to me, see'mon 

[Hook: Remy Martin] 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah yeah yeah yeah 

Yeah! 

[Fat Joe] 

Yeah, feel that right there 

Nod your head to this shit right here, that real hip-hop right there 

It's Cook Coke Crack, TS, Remy Mar 

Album coming, summer's ours cocksuckers 

True Story, BX Burough, Uh!