Listen to Pass the Glock (feat. Big Pun, Prospect, Fat Joe, Triple Seis, Cubam Link, & Armageaddon) by Terror Squad

Pass the Glock (feat. Big Pun, Prospect, Fat Joe, Triple Seis, Cubam Link, & Armageaddon)

Terror Squad

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Music Video

Pass the Glock (feat. Big Pun, Prospect, Fat Joe, Triple Seis, Cuban Link, & Armageaddon)
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Featured In

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Terror Squad
Terror Squad
Performer
Armageaddon
Armageaddon
Performer
Big Punisher
Big Punisher
Performer
Cuban Link
Cuban Link
Performer
Prospect
Prospect
Performer
Triple Seis
Triple Seis
Performer
Fatjoe
Fatjoe
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Christopher Rios
Christopher Rios
Songwriter
F. Delgado
F. Delgado
Songwriter
J. Eaddy
J. Eaddy
Songwriter
J.Graham
J.Graham
Songwriter
Joseph Cartagena
Joseph Cartagena
Songwriter
R. Pérez
R. Pérez
Songwriter
S. Garcia
S. Garcia
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Rob "Reef" Tewlow
Rob "Reef" Tewlow
Co-Producer
Craig Callman
Craig Callman
Executive Producer
Fatjoe
Fatjoe
Executive Producer
Greg Angelides
Greg Angelides
Executive Producer
Yogi
Yogi
Producer

Lyrics

Pass the glock word up Pass the glock (t-squaders) uh ha, (t-squaders) (Armageaddon) *Whispering in background* You can't stop t-squad You can't stop t-squad Can't stop it, can't stop it (Armageaddon) 2x Somebody call the cops For us to stop'll take all of they got Uptown and the bronx, my squad is legends off of the block (terror squad!) Deep in the borough where the corners is smoldering hot My team is known for smokin the glock To the hole in your rock (terror squad!) (Triple seis) I murder men wit the poisonous flow, my pen Hurt em for they dough and they gm's wit mac 10 No relaxin, straight action when it's on Call up pun and the don, come up heavily armed Niggas better be calm or i'ma set the alarm And a hundred strong'll form in shape of a bomb My squads'll forever bomb wit a war like lebanon And we hardcore till we dead and gone so go ahead and mourn (Cuban link) Aiyyo seis I'm pacin back and forth Wit thoughts of bein trapped up north But after I come off wit it y'all can push em out the door So cock the four pound (four pound) Lock the fort down (fort down) >from new york to georgetown (georgetown) Knockin off clowns that? clap em off rounds? It's war now so toss the nine? 'cause i'ma floss and shine You lost your mind if you thought your rhymes was comin close to mine Eyes that drop signs like einstein Applyin the iron to your spine And find you dyin on primetime 2x (Prospect) Aiyyo we break barriers, we recipe holders and cake carriers That dominate the devil tryin to make the fake marry us Hilarious how we mute crews, and nigga this is true news Dudes'll blow you outta ya two shoes Who chose to front it, they don't really want it Yo I stay philly blunted, prospect wit the nine milly gun it I leave you dented by the way glock pop Take a hot shot, push ya knot back like a drop top (Armageaddon) Freeze like coke in the drop or ya float when I'm totin the glock I'm blast any feelings you catch from this to emotional stop Host it on top, label the worst to the topic Worshippin violence, push you back Like a cursor does the words by the silence Hush, slow up before you blow ya clutch Hold my forty-four wit lust, an then I'll take your soul like a holy touch The tat on my arm's like the rhymes I write 'Cause armageaddon rivals life Give my hype I might bust it tonight 2x (Big punisher) My shit bang like a clock I pull your chain till it pop Put one in your brain for f**kin wit the creme of the crop Sayin I'm hot, while you playin I'm blazin the spot Makin you bop, makin my way to the top Breakin the lock, takin a shot at the title Ready to rock at my rivals Like pac everything I drop is the bible Cop it on vinyl, there's just a little cursing If you want ya head to burst Play it in reverse, you'll hear the devil's version (Fat joe) Hear the metal's burstin, there's a terror lurkin It's a certain, whoever searchin to find God when my clips inserted Words are blurted when we bust guns, you heard it Left ya *gun shot* murdered I know ya *scream* was stunned by the verdict I'm a free man, kill your free lance for only three grand Makin an examp for my other workers and cut off each hand You greedy mothaf**kas I'll see you in hell Jealous niggas wanna see me in jail fiendin to tell 2x
Writer(s): John Eaddy, Christopher Rios, Joseph Cartagena, Jeremy Graham, Felix Delgado, Samuel Garcia, Richard Perez Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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