1.lean back remix feat. mase and eminem
Intro- Lil Jon]
Stop! It's the mothafuckin remix!
Yeah!
Yeah!
Eminem nigga!
Lil Jon nigga!
Mase and Bethem!
That is yours!
Uh Ya Harlem is back
Who in the world want a problem wit that
For real I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world want a problem wit that
Uh ya real Harlem is back
Who in the world want a problem wit that
Uh I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world want a problem wit that
I said my niggas don't dance
We just pull up our pants
And do the roc-a-way
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
Yo, yo, yo, we goin Deja Vu
Then the day ya'll do
It'll be the day ya'll bleed
Rich minus eighty degrees
King of Harlem ain't no body made me leave
Who else could take five years off
Cold turkey, come back, and fly leers off
Cats front they gonna leanin like smirnoff
If haters wanna hate then its their loss
Come up in the rucka wit all my jigs on
Got grills so big you can cook a steak on
You gonna hear Mase gone
When they get a Mase on
You a hot 16, I'm a very great song
If beatin on the DJ before the Mase song
He play Clark Kent, you better have your cape on
Plenty grooms, mansion many rooms
My neckless, two X's, and three benty boom (lean back)
I said my niggas don't dance
We just pull up our pants
And do the roc-a-way
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
Eminem whats up!
You don't want no problems with Harlem
You don't want no problems wit da boogy down Bronxton
You don't want no drama wit da blonde bomber
Original don gotta of the blonde bottle, the model
For white america, then Joe,
the spokesperson for the Latino
Then we got Mase back to represent
everything else in between
Includin the percentages of the rest, we dope
The best from each coast, the mid west to the dirty dirty!
Even further to Miami,
all the way back to Californ I A
It'll prolly be best right now if I warn Dre
And get on the horn wit him tell him
bout the storm comin all our way
So tell a pal grab a gal, right now get on the floor why wait
Shake that ass a lil more my way or baby I dont dance
Not that I can, cuz of the pistol in my pants
I said my niggas don't dance
We just pull up our pants
And do the rock-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
No Judas, a comadis Caine's brother
Able to able to stop me nigga not me!
Got the streets askin damn who could top Pete
Summer Jam, killed it man did it all with one beat
I guess I'm bi-coastal now, took a
damn south brother to bring your boy out
As the wheel keep spinnin I can hear
niggas thinkin crack i got one hit benny out
Nope Joey bring them semi's out of
course you and yours pour a lil henny out
So much rappers actin in the game,
I have to tell him put the mic away
and run and go and get your emmies out
Lean back mothafuckas, this here's a three beat,
we back at the rucka
This good crack preachin to your brother,
the mic more rap, we perachin to you mothafuckas
I said my niggas don't dance
We just pull up our pants
And do the roc-a-way
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
Say my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats
And blow your back away
FUCK nigga lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
Say my niggas don't dance we just pull out our gats
And blow your back away
Bitch niggas lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
HAY!!
2.WAR (By Triple Seis)
Lyricist：Samuel Garcia, Vic Padilla
Yo, I'ma lay the law with A.K.'s or metaphors
Make way for the ghetto roar, these days I set it off
Y'all hardcore, that's why I batter you all
Shatter they jaw, batter the core to make a fatter than yours
Terror Squad to my death, tombstone on my chest
With the chrome in the vest, alone or with T.S.
I'ma rep it, I'm a Dominican, now you accept it
It's like you seen death and chose the Lord as the shepherd
You skeptical, niggas on the block ain't respectin' you
Checkin' you, ain't gonna stop when they deckin' you
Who gon' dock you？ I'm comin' at you like a tackle
To leave a personal scar in your chest like a tattoo
Seis'll clap you, put your dick in the dirt
Click at a herb when I spit a clip and rip through your shirt
I'm the worst of the beast, put my work on the streets
Do the work with the heat, don't make me burst through your meat
I kill alive for my twin, bust ill and do the time for my twin
Trust that it's real and he'll be at my side at the end
I got guns that'll silence your men
We bust off and let the begin, aight then
I kill alive for my twin, bust ill and do the time for my twin
Trust that it's real and he'll be at my side at the end
I got guns that'll silence your men
We bust off and let the begin, aight then
Yo, yo, Seis come off with a thunderous start
Punish niggas from the heart, rip a niga from the sparks
Of the glizze, leave a nigga clapped on 'Rap City'
I'm strapped with the Mac Milli, you wack as ass Gilly
It ain't hard to scrap, my squad's the vanguard of rap
Love to guard your back in the biz, the triz in the back
Flamboyant, never givin' a slack, I jam joints when I live on a
track
Ran point when they gave me the Mac
I'm on fat, never lack the realness, I sing that B.J. killer ill
shit
And still rock a nigga, I'm out to be real rich
You feel this, shaper than a tooth pain, double-deuce pain
My verse take aim, blow your fame with a burst of flames
Ain't nothin' changed, I die in this game
Take the stand and the blame for my man
I carry the name revenge
Terror Squad in begets carved on my chain
I kill alive for my twin, bust ill and do the time for my twin
Trust that it's real and he'll be at my side at the end
I got guns that'll silence your men
We bust off and let the begin, aight then
I kill alive for my twin, bust ill and do the time for my twin
Trust that it's real and he'll be at my side at the end
I got guns that'll silence your men
We bust off and let the begin, aight then
Yeah, Terror Squad, Triple Seis, baby
Up and comin', son, I'm comin' for all that shit, son
The crown and all that knawmean？ I rep N.Y.
The Boogie Down, baby, L.V., R.C., Rezz Crew
MC, Terror Squad, baby, this is how we do
1 9 9 9, baby, Triple Seis backwards, feel it
We gon' ride nigga, ride nigga, ride nigga
You gon' die nigga, die nigga, die nigga
We gon' ride nigga, ride nigga, ride nigga
You gon' die nigga, die nigga, die nigga
3.Terror Squadians
Lyricist：Joseph Cartagena, J Eaddy, R Perez, R Pimentel, C Rios
Terror Squad, ungh
Now why you wanna go and fuck with them？
Platinum status, motherfuckers, eat a dick!
Now who's the underrated pro, they scared to play on the radio？
Who lives the lyrics, all my real niggas already know
Flow for flow, no crew can step to us
And blow for blow, I'm pretty sure that you heard the rumors
I give tumors to niggas and comas to bitches
No one's against us, roll with the riches and float with the
fishes
The revolution has started that's why I'm under carded
My Squad will turn to the most feared into the dearly departed
As hard as they come, they all fall like the Great Wall
Make no mistake, I take you straight to the state morgue
Swarmin' informers like cops at drug corners
Feds got the bugs on us, tryin' to lay the law on us
They want us in jails with bails too high to bond but am I the
Don？
Shit, I'll be out by the morn', word bond
My game is on lock till you bawl cop
And it's never ever gonna stop
Yo, yo, I play the game with caution
Sun changes, gave power creative activities bring fame and
fortune
Why can't you live this？ All day hands on bitches
With financial ventures, enhance the riches
Gotta hold the cake, my grand moms had dreams
But it seems, I couldn't graduate or go to Drake
It hurts at nights, I gots to reimburse the vice
Niggaz is worse than shiest for the merchandise
My words precise 'cause if not, I wouldn't speak it
I rock shit everyday of the week, especially the weekends
Outside, these pretty clothes I live but with the titty-ho
Knock a nigga out for the shit he stole
We already degraded, me and my family the most hated
Bitch were barely both made it
See the thinly related, to everything in the street
I'm sellin' coke, crack and dope, plus swingin' the heat
We got drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin', just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
I thought you knew you had
Drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin' just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
(And it don't stop!)
I got rubies on my Uzi's and gems on my Mack 10's
Diamonds on my nines and golden bullets just to match them
Platinum magnums with silver clips, real begets
Shit, I'm gonna milk this bitch till I'm filthy rich
Filled with chips from the floor to the ceiling
Just flossin' and chillin' in a Porsche full-a-women
I'm one in a million, get on the deal already
My skills are sharper than a steel Maschetti
Realer than the military
Killin' every track I'm on
Link and Joey Crack the Don
Flippin' in my Cuban Caddy, wit the hazards on
So, come on if you gon' ride with us, live niggas
Hop with us, quick to try to triple five figures
Your style is unoffic', niggaz like you stay on my wanted list
Pun and Prince, we're walkin' on kings, like a son-of-a-bitch
Fuckin' with this is hazardous to amateur battlers
Average niggas get lost in the course of embarrassment
Of course, you don't have a chance, I'm the boss in your
eminence
Get tossed in the ambulance with the force of an avalanche
I'll torture your fragile ass with rhetorical paragraphs
For all of you that'll laugh at a historical aftermath!
I come equipped, my tongue and lips are like a hundred clips
Look behind you, I'll blind you like when the sun eclipse
Ain't no second chances, I glance at niggas
Make 'em wet they pants
The chances are slim if Twinz done swing the rest of the ransome
The best and the champion that means I'm far beyond
Dionne read my palm, told me to get on and put my army on
Come along, follow the Don, my motto and song
Live for tomorrow 'cause today's almost already gone
Lets get on, split your belly with the Maschetti long
Tears your arms of your shoulders, and tell you to, hold on
I know it's wrong, but it feels so right
I used to bust steel all night, but now I gotta deal, alright
We got drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin', just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
I thought you knew you had
Drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin' just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
(And it don't stop!)
We got drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin', just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
I thought you knew you had
Drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin' just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
(And it don't stop!)
Fuck a Toe to Toe, give me a forty-four and a foe to blow
To make it more dramatic, I quote Jehovah holding the scroll
Open your skull, show you shit you ain't supposed to know
Break the world in half and spit the ocean from coast to coast
(Just to let you know)
That I'm zone coasted
And play the visuals from the top of my verse back in
slow-motion
Assassinate the Pope with no emotions
So why should I hesitate to crush a campaign like I wasn't
votin'？
My brain floatin' away, above you niggas like I make time pause
Checkin' my Rollie watch my diamond Roman digits
Golden riches, better hold em bitches
'Cause we robbin' niggas way before
The translation of Holy Scriptures
I was Armageddon before the Motion Picture
The last nigga to drop his verse and have the globe shiftin'
My Squad's hard and far from Puritans
Robbin' and killin' men like we proud to be Americans
We got drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin', just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
I thought you knew you had
Drug dealers and bug niggas, who love killin'
Slugs killin', ya touch feelin' just for the thrillin'
We bust feelings, dump bodies in crushed buildings
Terror Squad's everywhere, it's just us illin'
(And it don't stop!)
4.Bring It On (By Fat Joe)
Lyricist：Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Alan Maman
Yeah yeah, what, Terror Squad
From the streets to the jail cell
I mean, my niggaz is facin' death penalties and all that
Charlie Rock el D
Yeah, yeah, this go out to you my nigga, yo, yo
Ain't no solution for this
Since day one I been true to this shit
Often niggaz try to shoot but they miss
I been provin' to hit so you know it's really real
I went from chillin' on the hills to signin' deals worth fitty
mil
Self made millionaire status
We all gettin' money but it's funny how mine makes niggaz
maddest
Come at us if you ready for war
Whoever you are
Leave you dead in your hall leakin' red on the floor
Better than y'all
Niggaz need to face the facts
Since the days of crack I been blazin' gats, tryin' to raise my
stats
Tracin' back, you could find me at a racin' track
Laced in black, bettin' on a horse called Amazin' Jack
Joey Crack's the illest, fully backed my killaz
Hoppin' outta 18 wheelas, like mad gorillas
Niggaz need to calm they nerves when I'm concerned
'Cause if you didn't know by now, you all gone learn
I ain't know you really want it
How am I supposed to know there's something when you keep
frontin'
Don't want no people wantin' to play my game
And if you really want the problems nigga say my name
Bring it on, come on
I ain't know you really want it
How am I supposed to know there's something when you keep
frontin'
Don't want no people wantin' to play my game
And if you really want the problems nigga say my name
Bring it on, come on
I puts it down with Pun
Now all I do is lounge in the sun
Look what I done from the slums, to sportin' 5 thousand and ones
See the ice glitter, I only walk with them nice niggaz
Sheist niggaz that quit it for doin' life niggaz
You had a judge, we came through in the clutch
Fifty fifth ain't no what to do when I came through wit'cha
The Don Polly, you could find me as fresh as Denali
In times probably even marching at a Shaufton rally
I often carry that's the price of fame
Got precise the fame snipe you with the rifle and unlight your
brain
It ain't a game, it's real niggaz with real guns
That still run, caught a box and pump ox by the millions
Before the children that's confusin' life
The voodoo type that'll pull out the Uzi and make you lose your
life
The news is tight, I got 'em hangin' by the neck
Man you tanglin' with vets when you bangin' with TS
(What, what the fuck)
I ain't know you really want it
How am I supposed to know there's something when you keep
frontin'
Don't want no people wantin' to play my game
And if you really want the problems nigga say my name
Bring it on, come on
I ain't know you really want it
How am I supposed to know there's something when you keep
frontin'
Don't want no people wantin' to play my game
And if you really want the problems nigga say my name
Bring it on, come on
5.Lean Back Remix
Lyricist：Mason Betha, Joseph Anthony Cartagena, Marshall Mathers,
Jonathan H Smith, Remy Kioni Smith
Stop, it's the motherfucking remix
Uh yea, Harlem in tact
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
For real I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
Uh yea Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
You know I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that？ Let's go
Said, my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back
Lean back, lean back, lean back, come on
I said, my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back
Lean back, lean back, lean back, come on
Yo, yo, yo, yo, it's deja vu and the day y'all do
It'll be the day y'all bleed, wrist minus 80 degrees
King of Harlem ain't nobody made me leave
Who else could take 5 years off？
Cold turkey come back and fly lears off？
Cats front leave them leaning like Smirnoff
If haters wanna hate then it's their loss
Come up in the Rucker with all my Jake's on
Car grills so big you can cook a steak on
People hear Ma$e call 'em wanna get their mase on
You hot 16, I'm a very great song
Been beating on the DJ before the Ma$e song
You play Clake Kent, you better have your cake on
Plenty homes, Mansion many rooms
My necklace, 2 ex's and 3 Bentley bulls now lean back
Said, my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean
back
I said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean
back
(Come on)
You don't want no problems with Harlem
You don't want no problems with the boogie down Bronkster
You don't want no drama with the blond bomber
Original Don Dotta of the blond bottle
The model from white America
Then Joe the spokesperson for the Latino
Then we got Ma$e back to represent everything else in between
Including the percentages of the press we don't
The best from each coast, the Midwest to the dirty, dirty
Even further to Miami, all the way back to California
It would probably be best right now if I warned Dre to get
An the horn and tell him about the storm coming all our way
So tell him, pack grab a gat right now get on the floor
I'll wait, shake that ass a little more my way
But baby, I don't dance, not that I can't there's a pistol in my
pants
Said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean
back
I said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean
back
(Come on)
No Judas or cowardice that Caine's brother
Abel is able to stop me, nigga, not me
Got the streets asking, 'Damn, who can top P？'
Summer jam killed it, man, they did it all with 1 beat
I guess I'm bicoastal now
Took a down South brother to bring your boy out
As the wheel keeps spinning
I can hear niggers thinking Crack got one hit then he out
No Joey bring them semis out
Force you and yours to pour a little Henny out
So much rappers acting in the game
I had to tell them put the mic away and run and get your Emmy's
out
Lean back, motherfucker
This here's a three peat we back at the Rucker
It's good, coke crack preach it to your brother
The mic more rap and preach you motherfucker
Said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean
back
I said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants
And do the Rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean
back
(Come on)
Said my niggaz don't dance, we just pull out a gat
And say blow your block away
Fuck, nigga, lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
I Said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull out a gat
And say blow your block away, bitch, nigga
Lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back, hey
6.Triple Threat (By Armageaddon, Big Pun, Cuban Link)
Lyricist：F Delgado, C Dewar, M Dewar, J Eaddy, C Rios
Yeah, fuck ya want from me
See I love my thugs but I'm a terrorist nigga
And I'mma terrorize ya ass till gone for miles pana
What, bitch ass nigga
I jeopardize this rap shit and blast ya ass to prove a point
I got thug nigguz who don't even rap callin' to do joints
Frontin' off the strength and you the weak link in the click
It's obvious you pussy I could see the pink in the clit
I seen the chip and the clip of my daily desert eagle
Forty four metal with heat'll, open ya belly like it's 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
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 teems, I'm 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 ain't a joke 'cause ain't nuttin' comical how my laser
scope
Aim at ya dome could erase the features off ya facial bones
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
Fuck the battlin' it's 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 don't you get the closet
Ah shit killa clacks, should've 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 blunted in Pennsylvania
I'm aimin' the mac right at ya hat better watch ya back black
I ain't sayin' you wack but you's a copy cat
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
Yo now who the fuck wanna battle this
You garbage pail rappers would get ya cabbage split
Got a habit of brandin' immature 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 ain't accurate you claim you packin' it
But when the action hits you rather switch into a faggot bitch
I'm hardcore it's not my fault ya softer than cardboard
Ya started to battle now I'mma 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
Sick and tired talkin' shit got beef wit me then so be it
I'll rush you like the Soviet Union and leave you soakin' wet
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
I'm 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 ain't forget the way these squad niggaz rep
Comin' at me from the sideline like you intend to step
7.Rudeboy Salute (By Buju Banton, Fat Joe, Big Pun)
Lyricist：David Axelrod, Michael T Axelrod, A Best, Joseph Cargagena,
Mark Myrie, Christopher Rios
Never jump up in-a mi face 'cause I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
Dis is Fat Joe alongside di Banton
Hey, what about Pun？
Rudeboy, salute with your gun
Terror Squad leader, come down
When I was young I blazed the corner with a vengeance
Crack king descendant, 14 years old facin' a sentence
Me and Tone Soul still co-defendants
Know your legends, Fat Joe, Soul blowin' up sessions
Split dough with detectives to get my flow in protection
Through the ice on my gold you see your own reflection
Can't tell me shit about murder and movin' weight
I got niggas that's off the scale that'll bust through you and
your mate
It's proven today, Armageddon's comin' sooner than late
We rappers that really blast, I know Cuban relates
50 niggas of terror, rockin' 560 leathers
Some of us are dyin' to gain but the name lives forever
Marked on my flesh to make my thoughts manifest
When I spark, no man's heart could withstand through the test
So apply the pressure like I used to do but Crack never left
I traded in my double breasted for a Mac and a vest, what the
fuck？
Never jump up in-a mi face, I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
Dis is Fat Joe alongside di Banton
Hey, what about Pun？
Rudeboy, salute with your gun
Tonight is a whole lot of fun, tell them, icin' this
From the heart of Kingston to the ice of Alaska
Buffalo Soldier, hardcore rasta, I am di original, fuck di
impostor
Determined to make it with or without ya
No borders, no boundaries
I've got to take care of my enemies
Don't you oppress, elevate stress
Artillery strapped over my chest
Bullet a-penetrate from right out to left
Skip and dive, duck like The Matrix
From the day I've been born I have been a target
Get, get, whenever, whoever disrespect Buju Banton
Terror Squad crew, you're takin' over, over, over, over, hear
dis
Never jump up in-a mi face 'cause I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
Dis is Fat Joe alongside di Banton
Hey, what about Pun？
Rudeboy, salute with your gun
Little baby jacker, raised my little sister while you baby-sat
Why she livin' fat, she ain't got a baby back, ya heard？
'Cause where we at, it's either live or die
I seen a nigga sky high from blye 'cause he thought the shit was
fly
I let you ride if you bustin', I let you die if you bluffin'
'Cause to die is the whole price of nothin'
You fuckin' with all brothers and Bronx bombers
Who want dramas, word to my dead and gone mama
Let me find the next muthafucka
Disrespect Fat Joe, the Don Carta
And I'ma have to jig a nigga like Shawn Carter
What's wrong, partner？
Punisher peel your banana, see you manana
That's right, I'ma be there with my guns
Blowin' the spot, I ain't got no hair on my tongues
'Cause where I'm from, we don't only talk the talk
We walk the walk, B-X, baby, New York, New York
Never jump up in-a mi face, I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
This a Fat Joe and Buju Banton
Tell them, what about Pun？
Rudeboy, salute with your gun
Never jump up in-a mi face, I gun
Never judge a book by di cover, dat's wrong
This a Fat Joe and Buju Banton
Tell them, what about Pun？
Rudeboy, salute with your gun
Buju Banton, original rasta gangsta
Fat Joe, Terror Squad massive
What, what？ Murderous, what？
8.In For Life (By Big Pun,Triple Seis, Prospect, Cuban Link)
Lyricist：Lawrence Ronald Anthony, Writer Unknown
Don't even move a muscle
Clap at ya feet, blast ya boot buckle
Cowboy style, dance bitch, do the hustle
Let me see you sweat
Follow the leader through the streets of death
Piece the bits together till you come up wit' atleast a brick
Then we can flip that, sip Henny and kick back
Chit-chat real quick, how we gon' split that
I suggest that we bubble it all
Cop a bundle of raw, start small
See if we can double the score
I stumble across my share of obstacles
Staring death dead in the opticals
'Cuz I'm never scared of the impossible
Ask the rasta dudes if our gonja ain't the tightest
Ask the pasta dudes if our China ain't the whitest
And none of my prostitutes vaginas got the virus
If you see one in the hospital, you could bet it was violence
That's the science, my alliance is Terror Squad
If there's a God, show me a sign so I can share my scars
We in for life, ready to fight, my twins is hype
Better get it right or get deaded on sight
So take flight, make one mistake and pay twice
'Cuz shit is trife, lose your life just tryin' to break night
We in for life, under the lights but I'm outta sight
When I write sometimes I wonder if it's outta spite
I like livin' on the edge, tippin' strippers at The Wedge
Sippin' spritzers, gettin' head, it's the life we live
Play the corners at night, away from the fortunate lifes
For the gunplay, thugs auction the heist
Slugs put you in a coffin for life
It's bug how they put you on ice
For the love, the money ain't right
Haters'll grudge, pay you like a mummy at night
Stiff as a dick, told you when to quit from this shit
Got hit, 'cuz you was quick to split loot wit ya bitch
Get a coupe and a six, but never troop in the mix
Didn't give a fuck, talkin' tough, 'Look at me now'
Shockin' the world, should've been on top of your girl
She gon' do you in, turn around and rock your world
For petty dough, niggas on the streets already know
You about to go, movin' on your block just to stop the flow
We about to blow, step up in rank
Step off the bank, niggas done fucked up to think
We in for life, ready to fight, my twins is hype
Better get it right or get deaded on sight
So take flight, make one mistake and pay twice
'Cuz shit is trife, lose your life just tryin' to break night
We in for life, under the lights but I'm outta sight
When I write sometimes I wonder if it's outta spite
I like livin' on the edge, tippin' strippers at The Wedge
Sippin' spritzers, gettin' head, it's the life we live
Aiyyo, I hold the pain like my body was numb wit novacaine
No one can fold the name, Terror Squad a soldier game
Already know the game, Prospect the quote of fame
Touch up a older dame and confirm the motor train
My vocals'll slow your brain, I'm comin' at you like a boa-crane
Even through the cold and rain, I penetrate through all weather
Eliminate who you call better
It's all, shut up, shut up, I'll leave your car wet up
Set it off, we all together, gettin' cheddar livin' better
Sippin' amarettos, whippin' the Vette instead of a Jetta
Dead up, never let up bet up, we settle vendettas
Ghetto dwellers, y'all better duck when I let off the beretta
Hit 'em up, yet I'm the terror that America wants dead
A blunt head turnin' punks red when I pump lead
I stomp a hole through your chest
Grab your soul, mold ya flesh
Hold ya breath 'cuz your next stop is death
We in for life, ready to fight, my twins is hype
Better get it right or get deaded on sight
So take flight, make one mistake and pay twice
'Cuz shit is trife, lose your life just tryin' to break night
We in for life, under the lights but I'm outta sight
When I write sometimes I wonder if it's outta spite
I like livin' on the edge, tippin' strippers at The Wedge
Sippin' spritzers, gettin' head, it's the life we live
Yeah, yeah, we in for mothafuckin' life, ya heard me？
See you niggas creepin' over there
Thinkin' y'all niggas could cut corners, get around
Nigga this is the mothafuckin' T-Squaders
We will buy you mothafuckas, simple as that
So called mothafuckin' rap killas, rap pimps
Niggas is bitches to me
Simple as that, mothafuckin' Terror Squad
Since the mothafuckin' early 80's until
What! You better ask somebody
This the real shit here, no one realer
9.Lean Back (Rmx)
Terror Squad Feat. Eminem, Ma$E ＆ Lil' Jon
Stop, it's the mother fucking remix
Uh, yeah, Harlem in tact
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
For real, I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
Uh, yeah, Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
You know, I heard Harlem is back
Who in the world wanna problem with that？
Let's go
Said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back, come on
I said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back, come on
Yo, yo, yo, yo, it's deja vu
And the day ya'll do
It'll be the day ya'll bleed
Wrist minus 80 degrees
King of Harlem, ain't nobody made me leave
Who else could take 5 years off
Cold turkey come back and fly lears off
Cats front leave them leaning like Smirnoff
If haters wanna hate then it's their loss
Come up in the Rucker with all my Jake's on
Car grills, so big you can cook a steak on
People hear Mase call em' wanna get their mase on
You hot 16, I'm a very great song
Been beating on the DJ before the Mase song
You play Clark Kent you better have your cape on
Plenty homes, mansion many rooms
My necklace, 2 ex's and 3 Bentley bulls, now, lean back
Said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
I said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
(Come on)
You don't want no problems with Harlem
You don't want no problems with the boogie down Bronkster
You don't want no drama with the blond bomber
Original don dotta of the blond bottle
The model from white America
Then Joe the spokesperson for the Latino
Then we got Mase back to represent
Everything else in between including the
Percentages of the press we don't
The best from each coast
The mid-West to the dirty, dirty
Even further to Miami
All the way back to California
It would probably be best right now
If I warned Dre to get on the horn
And tell him about the storm coming all our way
So, tell him, pack grab a gat right now
Get on the floor I'll wait
Shake that ass a little more my way
But baby, I don't dance, not that I can't
There's a pistol in my pants
Said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
I said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
(Come on)
No Judas or cowardice, that Caine's brother Abel
Is able to stop me, nigga, not me
Got the streets asking, damn, who can top P？
Summer jam killed it, man, they did it all with 1 beat？
I guess, I'm bi-coastal now
Took a down South brother to bring your boy out
As the wheel keeps spinning
I can hear Niggars thinking
Crack got one hit, then he out
No, Joey bring them semi's out
Force you and yours to pour a little Henny out
So much rappers acting in the game
I had to tell them put the mic away
And run and get your Emmy's out
Lean back mother fucker
This here's a three peat, we back at the Rucker
It's good coke crack preach it to your brother
The mic more rap and preach you mother fucker
Said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
I said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rock away, now lean back, lean back
Lean back, lean back
(Come on)
Said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull out a gat
And say blow your block away, fuck, nigga, lean back
Lean back, lean back, lean back
I said, my niggaz
Don't dance we just pull out a gat
And say blow your block away, bitch, nigga, lean back
Lean back, lean back, lean back, hey
10.Holla At Me Baby
Terror Squad Presents DJ Khaled
You got the right one, it's wheezy fuckin' baby
And if your woman lookin', I'll let the woman taste me
Okay now I'm with Khaled, we wilin' in Miami
We got a bunch of bitches, we pile â~em in the Phantom
They follow us to mansion but I don't mean the club
I'm talking bout my crib, mama I'm trying to fuck
It's cash money baby, it's young money bitch
Now you can swallow that or you can suck a dick
Okay, tell me shit, Lil Wayne fuck a bitch
Lil' nigga, big money, big gun full of that shit
Nigga I ain't Will Smith, nah, I ain't a Fresh Prince
Nigga I'm a young king, nigga I'm a Bun B
Yup, I go hard, ask my broad
Miss Stevie Wonder, she ain't lookin' at y'all
(She can't see)
The rest goes without me having to say
I say, go, go, go, go
(DJ)
Holla at me, what it do, what it is？
You ain't never seen a playa like this
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a pimp, I'll show her how I live
Take her back then I put it in her wrist
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a monster, I do it real big
You ain't never seen rocks like this
(Holla at me baby)
You can see me from afar, I'm the shit
Scream at me, â½What it do, what it is？â
(What it do？)
It's Paul Wall baby, Swishahouse club rocker
Chunk a deuce, sip a deuce, pourin' a big Goose vodka
Lone Star beast straight up out the H
Sure stoppin' all the hate, sippin' on the ski taste
I got the INS on my tail, immigration still harass
â~Cause they see me in a foreign ridin' on imported glass
Gettin' cash is my number one task
Until I'm under the grass, that's why I'm top of the class
I'm a grit boy lookin' for an ass like Ketoy
Leave a bitch back all nutty like Almond Joy
My boy toy IE got to sleep and eat
Got the sweets and who got the freaks？
Beat it up like an ass whipping
The album dropped and there's been a lot of ass kissing
But I ain't trippin', I'm trill
That's why I'm postin' with Khaled â~cause he real one
A hundred baby, like the bill
Holla at me baby
Holla at me, what it do, what it is？
You ain't never seen a playa like this
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a pimp, I'll show her how I live
Take her back then I put it in her wrist
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a monster, I do it real big
You ain't never seen rocks like this
(Holla at me baby)
You can see me from afar, I'm the shit
Scream at me, â½What it do, what it is？â
(What it do？)
Nah homie, you done got it fucked up
You ain't got as much money as us, nope
We sent Campbell in â~cause he got goggles on
And he's pushing something far and it's fucked
Now all I gotta do is push a little button quick fast
And the chopper come out of the stash
Yeah money ain't jewels, motherfucker you lose
I'll make you do the Fuck Sean Comb dance, follow me now
Who wanna come test the kid？
Have your baby mama bless the team
Shit, I ain't even know she could twerk it like that
She a motherfuckin' sex machine
Holla at me baby
Holla at me, what it do, what it is？
You ain't never seen a playa like this
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a pimp, I'll show her how I live
Take her back then I put it in her wrist
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a monster, I do it real big
You ain't never seen rocks like this
(Holla at me baby)
You can see me from afar, I'm the shit
Scream at me, â½What it do, what it is？â
(What it do？)
Stuntin' in a magnum, ridin' with my hat low
Forty-five magnum, barrel full of air holes
Dade County, represent, Dopeboy ever since
Know that I'ma veteran, million dollar residence
Rick Ross, big chips, AK's, flip clips
Off set rims on a rear six inch lips
Started on the benches, rose through the trenches
Now I want my shit bitch, go and check your senses
Known for the Benz's, chrome on the Bentley's
Smokin' on the Mentley's, Dade County big cheese
Flip soft, whip that, Rick Ross rip that
Khaled go hard dawg, talk to â~em Paul Wall
Holla at me, what it do, what it is？
You ain't never seen a playa like this
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a pimp, I'll show her how I live
Take her back then I put it in her wrist
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a monster, I do it real big
You ain't never seen rocks like this
(Holla at me baby)
You can see me from afar, I'm the shit
Scream at me, â½What it do, what it is？â
(What it do？)
It's Mr. 3-0-5 a.k.a
Mr. Snort yay, spit rocks, made in Dade
I owe my future to last name Campbell, first name Luther
The gun-shine state where they shoot ya
Bought him the crib, what it do, what it is？
Bust a clip, flip a brick, hey buddy where's the lick？
That's all we talk about, well welcome to the South
We in, get the bread, then we out, no doubt
Harlas and priests, these boys dirty
They'll fuck your mother, sister, daughter and nieces
Ahora loca, mueve la cadera
Abre la boca y viene la madera
Holla at me, what it do, what it is？
You ain't never seen a playa like this
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a pimp, I'll show her how I live
Take her back then I put it in her wrist
(Holla at me baby)
I'm a monster, I do it real big
You ain't never seen rocks like this
(Holla at me baby)
You can see me from afar, I'm the shit
Scream at me, â½What it do, what it is？â
(What it do？)
11.Lean Back (Clean Version)
Terror Squad, Fat Joe ＆ Remy
I don't give a 'bout your fault or mishappenin's
We from the Bronx, New York thing happens
Kids clappin' love to spark the place
Half the on the Squad got a scar on they face
It's a cold world, and this is ice half a mil' for the charm,
this is life
Got the phantom in front of the building Trinity Ave
10 years been legit they still figure me bad
As a youngin', was too much to cope with
Why you think, B-X nick-named me, Cook Coke
Should've been called Don, robbery, extorsion or maybe grand
Larceny
I did it all, I put the pieces to the puzzle
This long, I knew me and my peoples was gon' bubble.
Came out the gate, on some flow Joe fat with shotty was the logo
kid.
Said, my don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the Roc-away
Now, lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
I said, my don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
R to the Ezzy, M to the whizz-I, my arms stay breezy
The Don's stay flizz-I, got a date at 8, I'm in a 740'fizz-I've
And I just bought a bike so I can ride til' I die
With a matchin' jacket, 'bout to cop me a mansion
My Squad in the club, but you know they not dancin'
We gangsta, and gangstas don't dance, we boogie
So never mind how we got in here with the burners and hoodies
Listen we don't pay admission, and bouncers don't check us
And we walk around the metal detectors and there really
Ain't a need for a VIP section in the middle of the dance floor
Reckless, check it, said it, like my necklace, started relaxin'
Now, that's what the hell I call a chain reaction
See, money ain't a thing , we still the same , flows just
changed
Now, we 'bout to change the game
Said, my don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the Roc-away
Now, lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
I said, my don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
Now we livin' better now, Gucci sweater now
And that G4 could fly through, any weather now
See haters get tight, when you worth some millions
That's why I sport the chinchilla to hurt they feelin's
Your can find Joe Crack at all type of
Out at Vegas front roll on all the fights and
If I would've brought Compton, they'd prolly squeel
'Cause half these rappers dead broke like dirick fa' real
If you cross the line damn right, I'm gon' hurt you
These even made gang signs commercials
Even Lil' Bow Wow throwin' it up
B2K crip walkin' like that's what's up
Kay keep tellin' me to speak about da Rucker
Matter of fact, I don't wanna speak about da Rucker
Not even Pee-Wee Kirkland could imagine this
My champ Pee didn't have to play to win the championship
My don't dance
We just pull up our pants and, do the Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
I said, my don't dance
We just pull up our pants and do the Roc-away
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
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