Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Terror Era, artist - Terror Squad. Album song True Story, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.07.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Terror Era |
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 |