• Artist: Terror Squad
• Song Title: Terror Era
• Album: True Story

[Intro - guy talking]
Aiyyo Joe man whats good man
Aiyyo I hear n****z poppin s***
They runnin off to the Jakes man
They talkin like you ain't hood n****
What's really gangsta n****
What up what's poppin man
Aiyyo f*** these n****z man
Let these n****z 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
N****z even got the nerve tryin to clone the name
It's the kid wit a thousand aliases, the hood knows
S*** nowadays got n****z 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 n****z clap n****z wit the fo' kid
The newspaper s***
Known for crackin n****z 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 s***, 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
N**** what

[guy talking]
Yeah yeah thats whats up my n****
I see these n****z ain't f***in wit you though
But what's up wit these n****z though man
these n****z is ridin around in f***in benzes and s***
Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts
Yea man show these n****z 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
S*** never claim to be the richest but the truth is
Livest n**** 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 n****z 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
F***in wit women that only want me for winnin
Only for homey sittin, scuse me but don't be s***tin
I'm only bonin the b**** is if y'all could be gettin
n**** what!!

[guy talking]
Yeah that's what's up Crack
But what's up wit that b**** when she gonna drop yo
What's up wit Remy man
Where that b**** at man
Yeah man
Everytime I look around man I don't see no Remy man
N****z in the hood want you to call this b**** out man
What's up man

[Remy Martin]
Yo I don't give a f***
I don't play that s***
and I feel to bust a cap on a n****
I run up wit a gat on a n****
cock back on a n****
Like Rem's that b**** and Crack's that n****
For every word I spit I get a** cat figures
So f*** a** clappin, I'll clap yo a** n****
And chick is so funny cause I gets gully
Rocks throwbacks and fitteds n****, 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 f*** it it's mothin
Got the product the power and the will to do the hustle
S*** it's sicker than vomit, I swear to God it's disgustin
Hot an' fresh out the kitchen so these b****es can't touch it
You gotta love it I'm buggin word to my cousin Tequila
Slap the s*** outta any b**** interferin wit my scrilla
See a n**** he can get it too, f*** what your d*** a do
Even if I stuttered I will still "shi shi s*** on you"
My n**** L.V.