Lyrics Terror Era - Terror Squad
(Intro
- guy
talking)
Aiyyo
Joe
man
whats
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
thats
whats
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.
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