Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Loyalty, artist - Fat Joe.
Date of issue: 10.11.2002
Song language: English
Loyalty |
Cool & Dre, uh |
Terror Squad motherfuckers |
They’re all gonna laugh at ya, haha |
They’re all gonna laugh at ya |
Yeah, (YO), uh, (oh God), haha |
Haha (feedin you, feedin you) |
Yo (feedin you, feedin you) |
Yo, uh, yo, call me the JV artist |
That means I own two joint ventures and two different labels, niggas that pay |
me homage |
Been in this game for nine seasons |
That’s nine reasons why I’m expired the rhyme beefin |
Ya’ll niggas is rappin ass backwards |
I left twenty spots since beginnin this rap shit |
All yo papi lo que pasa contigo |
Mad cause I’m the only nigga reppin our people |
When I came in this game, no one wanted the job |
All of a sudden niggas actin like they wanna go hard |
Spittin venom 'bout the Squad, try and shittin the God |
This ain’t no «Scarface» shit, blow up your kids in the car |
And since you wanna act like you livin a movie |
I’ll hit you with more shots than Bruce Lee got in a «Fist of Fury» |
Bitch niggas, nothin but snitch niggas |
Today you on my dick, tomorrow you on his nigga |
Got deported from the Squad, can’t afford another car |
Where’s your house at? |
I heard your livin with your moms (livin with your moms) |
Blane nigga better stay in your place |
Keep talkin, burst a flame in your face, motherfucker |
Yo, yo, with this comparison the Geddy is God |
Cause even though you never seen me, I been put fear in your hearts |
And I’m smooth like a Mulo it theme |
Skip bullets of your Coogi beam |
Before you knew you were seen |
Yeah I’m nice and I don’t care if you know |
Cause all you really need to understand is how hard I’m rulin with Joe |
And the streets is no place for late bloomers |
Just gangsta niggas, snakes and bitches that meant to spread rumors |
Listen, I’m from the Bronx were the gun shoot rabid |
Front if you want, but don’t think we don’t shoot rapids |
I’m what some might consider a ghost |
Cause I move at night, plus I’m the type to play a live nigga close |
I’m the ultimate, high consulted, rhyme vocalist |
I write dope, spit dust and shit cocoa bricks |
This is what you dicks need to act-knowledge |
Or get the shit smacked outta ya fat cabbage |
Don’t ask why we act violent |
We just killas and thugs |
Niggas wit mad talent, that still dabble in drugs |
I only rap now to speak to the streets |
They say the Squad gotta feed 'em the beef |
So we gonna feed 'em the beef |
My nine milly blaze, and hit hard like Willy Mays |
Since my kiddy days, grew up with thugs who were really crazed |
Ain’t no silly games, right here be the truth |
150 proof, whoever, I’m talkin to you |
They call me Prospect, I’m one in a mil |
One of the real, I rap but I still put a gun in your grill |
I’m the reason why I catch you when your car breezin by, with your Iceberg team |
You look when the light turns green |
Your scared to death, don’t make me have to air at ya chest |
Or tear ya flesh, for actin like I carin whats left |
Anyone can get it in a minute give it some time, I’m livin this rhyme |
Let my nine get in your spine, sit and recline |
Get so mad, forget and rewind |
So I can see what I did again and just slide |
To the next level, hop on the bike and just pedal |
Bustin at your best rebel, who runnin to test medal |
Let me get settled, lay my mom down in this game |
For niggas kinda refain, I push 'em down in the train |
Bout it the same, my three cousins up in the Benz |
Big, G Psycho and E, ya’ll know what this is |
Yo, yo, It’s the T, E, a R a, a R a, O, R Squad |
So you know I gotta be that bitch Remy Mar |
With Armageddon and your nigga Joe The God |
Tony Sunshine and motherfuckin Prospect |
Straight out the projects |
A forest, where they kill for mils and they blast the steel |
But I’m from murda murda Castle Hill |
I got a big ass burner, but I’ll slash your grill |
Yo don’t got no status, don’t want no static |
They knew you was loco toto, and I don’t no Spanish |
All I know is how to cock back and aim for the cabbage |
And keep on bustin 'til the bitch brain splatter |
And the kids won’t matter, when the crib’s on fire |
What you spit don’t matter, cause this bitch on fire |
And I won’t stop rockin 'til I retire |
Any bitch disagree is a god damn liar |
Yeah, uh infamous Terror Squad nigga |
Loyalty, what does it mean to you |
How many a ya’ll niggas is loyal? |
All these Benedict Arnold niggas |
Switch sidin niggas, ya heard? |
Nigga I throw this whole rap shit out the window in a sec, ya heard? |
Joe Crack the Don Diggler |
The savior, Caesar, the streets is mine nigga |
We ride, who wanna test the record launcher, ya see 'em? |
Uh, haha, feedin you, feedin you, feedin you |
Make your move baby, c’mon |
Step up baby |
They’re all gonna laugh at ya |
(*laughing*), woo, BX |