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Песня:Terror Era
Артист:Terror Squad
песня Terror Era
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Terror Era (Длительность 03:07)

Текст песни Terror Squad - Terror Era
Aiyyo Joe man whats good man Aiyyo I hear niggas 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 fuck these niggas man Let these niggas do 88 (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 Niggas even got the nerve tryin to clone the name It’s the kid wit a thousand aliases, the hood knows Shit nowadays got niggas 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 niggas clap niggas wit the fo' kid The newspaper shit Known for crackin niggas 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 Yeah yeah thats whats up my nigga I see these niggas ain’t fuckin wit you though But what’s up wit these niggas though man These niggas is ridin around in fuckin benzes and shit Bentleys & all that sittin on yachts Yea man show these niggas 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 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 niggas 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 Nigga 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 Niggas 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 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 fuck 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 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 nigga he can get it too, fuck what your dick a do Even if I stuttered I will still «shi shi shit on you» My nigga L. V

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