Terror Era - Terror Squad, Remy Ma, Fat Joe

Aiyyo Joe man whats good man

Aiyyo I hear niggas 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 niggas man

Let these niggas do 88

(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

Niggas even got the nerve tryin to clone the name

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

Shit nowadays got niggas 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 niggas clap niggas wit the fo' kid

The newspaper shit

Known for crackin niggas 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

Yeah yeah thats whats up my nigga

I see these niggas ain’t fuckin wit you though

But what’s up wit these niggas though man

These niggas is ridin around in fuckin benzes and shit

Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts

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

What’s up

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 niggas 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!

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

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

What’s up man

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