Terror Era (feat. Remy Ma & Fat Joe)

Aiyyo Joe man whats good man

Aiyyo I hear **** poppin shit

They runnin off to the Jakes man

They talkin like you ain't hood ****

What's really gangsta ****

What up what's poppin man

Aiyyo fuck these **** man

Let these **** do 88

(yeah uh what uh yo yo)

Migga tryin to change the regime, I won't have that

Step in the club in Manhat at

And it feel like sat down, Jose the flow is cocaine

**** even got the nerve tryin to clone the name

It's the kid wit a thousand aliases, the hood knows

Shit nowadays got **** callin me cooked coke

I rise to the to the top and I lay it down quite flat

You can bottle me up and get your money right back

Crack **** clap **** wit the force

The newspaper shit

Known for crackin **** jaws

And I don't go to court, I talk wit the hawk

Have a forensics specialist outline your corpse

About time we fought man

I'm tired of this rumor shit, 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

**** what

Yeah yeah thats whats up my ****

I see these **** ain't fuckin wit you though

But what's up wit these **** though man

These **** is ridin around in fuckin benzes and shit

Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts

Yea man show these **** what your 1's like man

What's up

I gets duece 5 a show, do 5 a week

Let y'all do the math, that's aight for me

Shit never claim to be the richest but the truth is

Livest **** 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 **** 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

Fuckin wit women that only want me for winnin

Only for homey sittin, scuse me but don't be shittin

I'm only bonin the bitch is if y'all could be gettin

**** what!!

Yeah that's what's up Crack

But what's up wit that bitch when she gonna drop yo

What's up wit Remy man

Where that bitch at man

Yeah man

Everytime I look around man I don't see no Remy man

**** in the hood want you to call this bitch out man

What's up man

Yo I don't give a fuck

I don't play that shit

And I feel to bust a cap on a ****

I run up wit a gat on a ****

Cock back on a ****

Like Rem's that bitch and Crack's that ****

For every word I spit I get ass cat figures

So fuck ass clappin, I'll clap yo ass ****

And chick is so funny cause I gets gully

Rocks throwbacks and fitteds ****, 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 As-salamu alaykum

Do you want it raw? Or do want me to bake em?

Get the bag it cut it shop it fuck it it's mothin

Got the product the power and the will to do the hustle

Shit it's sicker than vomit, I swear to God it's disgustin

Hot an' fresh out the kitchen so these bitches can't touch it

You gotta love it I'm buggin word to my cousin Tequila

Slap the shit outta any bitch interferin wit my scrilla

See a **** he can get it too, fuck what your dick a do

Even if I stuttered I will still "shi shi shit on you"

My **** L.V