Lyrics Triple Threat - Terror Squad, Armageaddon, Big Pun

Triple Threat - Terror Squad, Armageaddon, Big Pun
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Triple Threat, artist - Terror Squad. Album song Terror Squad, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 09.09.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Rhino Atlantic
Song language: English

Triple Threat

What, fuck ya want from me,
See I love my thugs but Im a terrorist nigga and imma terrorize ya ass
Till gone for miles pana
What, bitch ass nigga!
(verse 1 armageddon)
I jeopardize this rap shit and blast ya ass to prove a point
I got thug nigguz who dont even rap callin to do joints
Frontin off the strength and you the weak link in the click
Its obvious you pussy I could see the pink in the clit
I seen the chip and the clip of my daily desert eagle
Fourty four metal with heatll
Open ya belly like its legal
Push you back a few feet send you sailin like a seagull
When we clash in the street
Why was you bailin if you evil (you aint evil)
Talkin bout somebody tryin to playa hate you
Actually I like you but fuck wit my squad the german a.k.ll hit you
Ever seen what them things could do could-
Down to ya tims, Im like the limit on ya life
The demon on ya light
That figure in the dark that takes ya heart in the mid of night
This aint a joke cause aint nuttin comical how my laser scope
Aim at ya dome could erase the features off ya facial bones
Im like a triple threat
Double dare you to try to rip my neck
The way my click spit techs will leave you wet from dick to neck
I know you aint forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin at me from the sideline like you intend to step (x2)
(verse 2 big pun)
Fuck the battlin its world war four I mean the red form
No need to crowd the name is aroused up in the dead zone
New world order I only flow wit the real horror
Chrome c4 to ya door and pearl harbor
We can bring it back
Gats on the holsters of mini macs
Gats on the holsters strapped to the shoulders of maniacs
Where we at the projects
Why dont you get the closet
Aaaahhhhhh!
shit killa clacks
Couldve brought back ya prostate
Buyacka got bullets big enough to move ya car
Land cruisers 18 wheelers we do it tied
Just let it happen I prefer violence instead of rappin
Fuckin wit this latin assassin better get ya head examined
My shit be slammin like onyx and wrestle mania
You really want it you philly blounted in pennsylvania
Im aimin the mac right at ya hat better watch ya back black
I aint sayin you wack but yous a copy cat
(verse 3 cuban link**)
Yo now who the fuck wanna battle this
You garbage pail rappers would get ya cabbage split
Got a habit of brandin ammitur nigguz like cattle hips
So watch ya lips
Cause what you fuckin is hazardous
Shut up and catch a clip I roll wit more dogz than st.
lazorous
What happened is ya raps aint accurate you claim you packin it But when the action hits you rather switch into a faggot bitch
Im hardcore its not my fault ya softer than cardboard
Ya started to battle so imma turn into the God four
Switch to southpaw like de la hoya golden boy
I put it on you polaroid finish left you as red as sonya
I been a soulja all my life fought for stripes all most saw the light
Talk to christ he told me that my songs so nice
And for the right price I might just body you
Chop ya ass into particles and read about you in newspaper articles
Im sick and tired talkin shit got beef wit me then so be it
Ill rush you like the soviet union and leave you soakin wet

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Artist lyrics: Terror Squad
Artist lyrics: Big Pun
Artist lyrics: Cuban Link