Ch-ch-ch-ch... Yeah (Terror Squad.. First Family..) AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (Yeah, hahahah!) You see them diamonds gliserin off that three-quarterla (Hahaha) Dat dem dere polyesther (Uh, nigga!) Hahaha, ya heard me? (What the f*ck, what the f*ck, huh?!) (Terror Squad... First Family...) OH!, OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) [Fat Joe] Yeah, yeah uh Yo it's that motherf*ckin Bronx nigga Don shit Run up in yo' mom's crib Ship-stacked biddomb shit - gun up in the palm shit Nobody moves, nobody get whacked with the contrict Yo' shot at they concert, it's locked on the concrete I'm Stone Cold, I mean I slap... then stomp... Then what's to stop my .40 glock from rumblin your calm streets? I'm troubled when I on deep, loco enough for dolo Blow holes in ya carseat and roll over ya Rover F*ck this role model shit I'm finna blow out ya wig Bitch! Throw bottles to kid and get 'em thrown at ya crib It's the return of the worst shit that ever happened Reborn like what's crackin, we formed with raw plastic Blastin off ya doors with an awful passion Forcin the walls to crash in You see them kids, I'll make 'em all bastards Joey Crack - keep it gully Known to clap - keep a fully Automatic mack whodie on my lap - doin thirty Drivin through the Heights tryna find these cats that did me dirty Shot me on the Ave., now I gotta blast until them pearlies We the realest niggaz ever touch the mic (BLAH!) And we love to fight (BLAH!) You heard my niggaz (ANTE UP!) give up the f*ckin knife! [Hook] - 2x We gonna, BREAK! - (BREAK!) MASH! - (MASH!) BRAWL! - (BRAWL! CLASH! - (CLASH!) Fight up in them clubs, got no love for yo' ass!! GET YO' ASS UP NIGGA! SHOW ME WHERE YOU AT! GET YO' ASS UP NIGGA! OPEN UP HIS BACK! [Lil' Fame] Yo who that husky-ass nigga with the flow so dumb Comin up outta Brooklyn lookin like Mighty Joe Young (FACE DOWN!) Know we real - got this motherf*cker crackin and buzzin with my Latin cousin Joey Grills (WE INTERNATIONAL!) 151 proof Letcha cold run loose, I give 'em a sunroof For cotton-ass pretty boy talkin bout drama With that nasty-ass Coogi suit, lookin like pajamas (SOMEBODY GON' GET HURT TODAY!) So be it We the First (First!) Fam (Family!) - You see it! Put some trouble in ya voice homeboy, fore ya get whacked in CALM (CALM!) DOWN (DOWN!) GET - BACK! [Billy Danze] For you niggaz that want to trap me I make families unhappy I'm tied into the same shit as Boy George and Papi (E'RYBODY KNOW!) Everybody want to clap me Tonight I'm with my Spanish homie Joey so get at me with the ghetto issued .45, semi-automatic I (SPIT) with intentions (TO RIP) Put-put pieces out yo' cabbage bitch Trained on the Hill, aim at niggaz faces Push his hat back seven paces - leave him standin still Cobra-ass nigga (Huh?!) You beg me to kill (Yeah!) When I cock glocks and pop, you beg me to chill (Chill!) (Y'ALL REMEMBER BILL!) why'all remember the motherf*ckin deal You will get yo' ass zipped up, how this feel nigga?!! [Hook - 2x] [Petey Pablo] Oh motherf*cker uh-uh, why'all ain't seen nuttin yet Got a call from the Bronx Best, bitch and I was right there Duck tape, grip ply, havogee, turpentine Two nickel nine, MacDonald, cup of richie wine Wish a motherf*cker would, look and he shall find TEN MILLION WAYS TO DIE! I'm the thickest of the fire Ain't to many niggaz round with the rumble With the rawest in the jungle, blicky BLOAW BLOAW!! Bitch I break 'em down (DOWN) with Terror Squad now Ya pretty bad, clumsy mouth, sit down - get up get out Hottest thang they got in the south (Petey Pablo!) If ya don't know now ya know - HOLLA AT 'EM JOE! Fight club! - Fight club! Fight club! - Fight club! Fight club! - Fight club! HOLLA AT 'EM JOE! [Hook - 2x] Yeah, huh, yeah, huh?! (Hahaha) First Family, Terror Squad....
Written by: MOSES BARRATT III, JOSEPH ANTHONY CARTAGENA, LAMONT DOZIER, LAMONT HERBERT DOZIER, BRIAN HOLLAND, EDWARD HOLLAND, EDWARD, JR. HOLLAND, RON TEWLOW
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