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Song Lyrics :: Rap Music Lyrics :: Terror Squad Lyrics

Terror Squad Lyrics

Bring 'Em Back
Lean Back
Pass the Glock
Terror Era
'99 Live

Bring 'Em Back

(Feat. Big L, Big Pun)

Yeah
This is clasic shit right here, vintage shit
Go get ya tape decks ready uh
You know I had to bring 'em back hahahaha
Terror era's the squad man
Yeah uh yo uh yo

[Verse 1: Fat Joe]
Aye yo I'm old school like Rick Ruler sick jewels to big buddah
Lift dudes wit the six shooter Luger (Ooh Yeeah)
That means bring it back NY king of that
The best tried a dead mind but just can't see to that
The 4th comin don't look now theres more comin
And we all stunnaz wit lil money but still hungry
True story once threw a nigga from a two story
asked for my paper said theres nothin he can do for me
Thats like takin a steak out of a lions mouth
Betta yet that like takin a plate outta Ryans mouth
Thatll neva happen ova my dead body
Feds got me plastered on the wall like I'm the heir to Gotti
I swear to Mambo and Nore and all the left wreck
A nigga try front on his body he gettin sent back
Dont resent Crack I'm just what you wanna be
Young rich and famous bitches can't get enough of me
And they runnin up on me usually in groups of them
But not just everyday but you could neva be too use to them
I be abusin them squeezin fresh oranges
Breakfast in the mornin get some strength and then it's on again

[Chorus: Fat Joe + (Big L) {Big Pun}]
I just had to bring 'em back
(Word you definitly know what I'm about)
You know I had to bring 'em back yo
{All my friends call me stout}
I just had to bring 'em back
(Flamboyant baby)
You know I had to bring 'em back yo

[Verse 2: Big L]
When I cruise through the ghetto I drive slow
I'm quick to buck a duck and I don't give a f**k about 5-0
A hard core life I toast to ex flaw
therefore I live raw and went to war wit the law
My only pencil was a mug shot slugs were thugs got pot
get swellin hops from sellin tops to da drugs spot
G's was clocked fat knots was in the socks
and cops who tried to stop shop got knocked when I popped the glock
Shit was ran right by me and my man Mike
Cause I choose to use a gun don't mean that I can't fight
Cause we put the guns down and go one round
wit the hands but man I ain't the one, you'll get done clown
I can inverse my style, cause I'm versitile
Quick to burst a child I'm livin worse than foul
I pack two techs in case ya crew flex
I wet up the set in a second yell whos next
To feel the wrath of a psychopath shoots it up like Shaft
Turn ya staff into a blood bath to laugh
You'll get smashed like a deli snack, you softer than jelly jack
I attack in black wit a gat and a skully hat

[Chorus]
I just had to bring 'em back
{All my friends call me stout}
You know I had to bring 'em back yo
(Flamboyant baby)
I just had to bring 'em back
{Terror Squad cause we stunt}
You know I had to bring 'em back yo

[Verse 3: Big Pun]
No doubt I'm from the X and I seen it all
Shorties wit dreams of playin ball for Seaton Hall turnin fiends a full
From Meda ward to Sacuon the same sad song
is bein sung, its like gimmie a gun and I'm back on
Joey Crack, Pun, TS, Bronx regulators
Stomp little niggaz to death for tryin to imitate us
Yall could neva see us, be us, TS, kill da bs
Cause Pun got more guns and funds than Undeas
Un be us, I'm from the BX so I have to roll
Blast the 4 crash ya door smash ya hoe
Hack off ya skull, I'm stackin heads like totem poles
Blow a hole in ya colon throw you from here to Fordan road
Blow fa blow, I toe to toe with the toughest
bring the ruckas to the roughest muthaf**ka its nothin but luckstress
My crews are cussin to bustin ass crushin glass
in niggaz faces leavin traces of red out this bloody bath
I want the cash off the jiddump, I cock and blast the piddump
at any piddunk tryin to laugh at the Briddonx
You ain't no kiddon for the Terror Squadron
You feel the fear of God when I steal a car and flatten ya Pierre Cardan
I peirce ya noggin if you startin trouble, spark the dot above you
and watch it blossom like a flower throughout the borough
No doubt I'm thorough with a parascope rifle extended rycle
cycle thatll tear the whole Bible out
I'm sweatin no idols a title's all I request
Best rappers know that Pun and Y the chaperones of death..

[Chorus]
I just had to bring 'em back
(Word you definitly know what I'm about)
You know I had to bring 'em back yo
{All my friends call me stout}
I just had to bring 'em back
(Flamboyant baby)
You know I had to bring 'em back yo

Back to Top

Lean Back

Yeah... My niggas...
Throw ya hands in the air right now man...
Feel this shit right here...

[Verse 1 - Fat Joe a.k.a Joey Crack]
I don't give a f**k 'bout your fault or mishappenin's,
Nigga we from the Bronx, New York... shit happens,
Kids clappin' love to spark the place,
Half the niggas on the squad got a scar on they face,
It's a cold world, and this is ice,
Half a mil' for the charm, nigga 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', I was too much to cope with.
Why you think, mo'f**kers nick-named me, Cook Coke shit.
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 shit.
Fat nigga with shotty was the logo kid.

[Chorus]
Said my niggas 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 niggas don't dance, we just pull up our pants and,
Do the Roc-away.
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back.

[Verse 2 - Remy]
R to the E'zzy',
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-ive,
And I just bought a bike so I can ride til' I die,
With a matchin' jacket,
Bout' to cop me a mansion,
My niggas in the club, but you know they not dancin'.
We gangsta, and gangstas don't dance - we boogie,
So nevermind 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 f**k I call a chain reaction.
See, money ain't a thing nigga, we still the same nigga, flows just changed
now we 'bout to change the game nigga.

[Chorus]
Said my niggas 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 niggas don't dance,
we just pull up our pants and,
Do the Roc-away.
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back.

[Verse 3 - Fat Joe a.k.a Joey Crack]
Now we livin' better now,
Gucci sweater now,
And that G4 could fly through, any weather now,
See niggas get tight, when you worth some millions.
That's why I sport the chincilla to hurt they feelin's.
Your can find Joe Crack at all type of shit,
Out at Vegas front roll on all the fights and shit,
If I woulda 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 faggot niggas 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 niggas didn't have to play to win the championship.

[Chorus]
My niggas 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 niggas don't dance,
we just pull up our pants and,
Do the Roc-away.
Now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back

Back to Top

Pass the Glock

[Prospect]
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

Chorus [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 ? cuz 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

Chorus 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
Cuz Armageaddon rivals life
Give my hype I might bust it tonight

Chorus 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

Chorus 2x

Back to Top

Terror Era

[Intro - guy talking]
Aiyyo Joe man whats good man
Aiyyo I hear niggaz poppin shit
They runnin off to the Jakes man
They talkin like you ain't hood nigga
What's really gangsta nigga
What up what's poppin man
Aiyyo f**k these niggaz man
Let these niggaz do 88

[Fat Joe]
(yeah uh what uh yo yo)
Migga tryin to change the Ragine, I won't have that
Step in the club in Manhat at
And it feel like sat down, Jose the flow is cocaine
Niggaz even got the nerve tryin to clone the name
It's the kid wit a thousand aliases, the hood knows
Shit nowadays got niggaz callin me cooked coke
I rise to the to the top and I lay it down quite flat
You can battle me up and get your money right back
Crack niggaz clap niggaz wit the fo' kid
The newspaper shit
Known for crackin niggaz jaws
And I don't go to court, I talk wit the hawk
Have a forensics specialist outline your corks
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
Nigga what

[guy talking]
Yeah yeah thats whats up my nigga
I see these niggaz ain't f**kin wit you though
But what's up wit these niggaz though man
these niggaz is ridin around in f**kin benzes and shit
Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts
Yea man show these niggaz what your 1's like man
What's up

[Fat Joe]
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 nigga 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 niggaz 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
f**kin 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
nigga what!!

[guy talking]
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
Niggaz in the hood want you to call this bitch out man
What's up man

[Remy Martin]
Yo I don't give a f**k
I don't play that shit
and I feel to bust a cap on a nigga
I run up wit a gat on a nigga
cock back on a nigga
Like Rem's that bitch and Crack's that nigga
For every word I spit I get ass cat figures
So f**k ass clappin, I'll clap yo ass nigga
And chick is so funny cause I gets gully
Rocks throwbacks and fitteds nigga, 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, I sell aranathum
Do you want it raw? Or do want me to bake em?
Get the bag it cut it shop it f**k 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 nigga he can get it too, f**k what your dick a do
Even if I stuttered I will still "shi shi shit on you"
My nigga L.V.

Back to Top

'99 Live

Don't be scared of this
(Terror Sqaud)
Don't be scared of this
(That's right, that's right)
Prospecto
Follow me here now

[ CHORUS ]
Throw your hands up
My live niggas in the cut, put your triggers up
If you got love say, "Nigga, nigga what"
(Nigga what) Like you don't give a f**k
Bitches playin niggas just to get a buck
Get a buck (Yeah, we hit em up) (2x)

[ VERSE 1: Prospect ]
Yo, it's the P-r-o-s-p-e-c-t
I'm a thug you can't ph.d. me
Catch me in the back of the club switchin it up
Type of nigga to get drunk and piss in your cup
Listen up to what it is, know a lotta mamis lovin the triz
And some, they tryin to pull it off right in front of the kids
Before I think about coming to cribs
I be lugging my glitz so big, on the waist it be rubbing my ribs
It's very dangerous f**kin with this
I been doublin chips holdin my own with the chrome double-grips
Up in the mix, caught a couple of vics
When I used to fight, but I ain't been scufflin since
This is as tough as it gets, never leave nothin with prints
Or you get blast and you're chopped up and stuffed in the fridge
They not playin me, I perfected this game from A to Z
The ones I don't know will need ropes to hands and knees

[ CHORUS ]

[ VERSE 2: Prospect ]
This shit'll never stop, as long as I live, I'ma forever rock
And stop niggas right where they standin when the baretta pop
My moms said I better not, but knew I had to
I said, "I'm bustin mines, and ain't nobody movin at you"
She laughed too, like I was jokin, when I'm chrome-totin
I have a nigga in his home hopin I don't blow his dome open
I stay stoned, smokin while I'm on the low, I'm copin
A cool guy, but at times you catch me Tone-Locin
Been through a lotta shit, but never had a bone broken
It's tragic how I rap shit with my own potion
>From here to Hoboken I was hoppin trains with no token
Now I'm on stage, they say I'm show-boatin
My flow potent, cause it's mixed in raw
Spell it backwards, it's 'war'
The gat spits, you backflip through the door
I kill em all, Terror Squadian style
I only get down with the crown, only partyin wild
Ya heard

[ CHORUS ]

Now everybody from B-K, throw em up
Now everybody from New Jerz, throw em up
Now everybody from Q-B, throw em up
Now everybody from the B-X, throw em up
Now everybody from Staten Island, throw em up
To all my partners from Westside, throw em up
Now everybody from the East Coast, throw em up
If you Dirty like the South, throw em up
You better throw em up

My man Big Pun, hit em up
My man Joey Crack, hit em up
The whole Terror Squad hit em up
The Thoroughbreds, we hit em up
Prospect
'99
It's almost over, baby
Right

Back to Top