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[Fat Joe (Mack 10)
Yeah, Terror motherfucker!
(And the Hoo affiliates.) Uh huh.
I know you think you was gon see this niggas.
(Nope.) East coast, coast. (It's all the same.)
Joey Crack, Big Pun, 10.
(Speak on it, Joe.)
Haha, what!

[Fat
At times I feel blastin myself, endin it all
Niggas on my same team be I fall
Tellin the feds, that I'm still the raw
Know all about the box on the floor of my Porshe
Boy George-in it, livin the of the fortunate
Show you how warm my coffee get
My crew get the blame for hideous crimes
Why do niggas stay with the shitiest rhymes?
Can't it, all these niggas claim that they ballin
But it appears empire's fallen
Fuckin with Joe and Pun, real niggas day one
The cats you get ?terroria? from
East coast, west coast, man it's all the
Niggas won't know shit till they the flame
It's insane, since the flow track
your whole back, with the mack, we'll let ya know black

X 2
It's all weight, work, guns, yay
Real motherfuckers chase dough and don't
Y'all motherfuckers move, we don't spray
Big Pun, Fat Joe, 10 baby

[Big
Check you never thought
Pun and Joe, the of Nueva York
Spittin thoughts with twin, 10 the chicken hawk
We the truest 'cause walk in muddy boots
Once my dogs cut me lose, that's a in your bubblygoose
Fuck is you talkin like you
like you eighty
Or have you crawlin, walkin a baby
try to play me 'cause I'm not a playa
Hey yo I shot the up and pass the heat off like a hot potatoe
I'm out to a million dollies but still I'm rowdy
So I hope it happen rappin before I have to somebody
That's how it is in the stone
If you known to own a guaranteed nigga gon mug you
And no one love you when you as shit, focus kid
Commercials don't lie, thirsty to die? is in
Blow your life away, a big price to pay
You coulda teachin your kid how to ride his bike today

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10]
I hit the la la, and the ya ya
And if y'all don't get him, I I'll try
Hoo Bangin affiliates is the so the silliest
Really get to see just how the nine milly spit
10, Big Pun and Joey Crack
Real push big weight and big sacks
Y'all said it was cool, I got to ok
I usually want paytons, y'all bring the scale so we can this
It be pure, hope you ain't got a birdie mix
Hey yo, put it up there, and make it's all 36
I hope you can count nigga, better be
If it ain't all there your dope and your life
From the of hard knocks, Inglewood to the Bronx
We hit the blocks and the rocks in forty blocks
Hit doja like we to, sippin on Hen
TS and Mack 10, so let the games

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