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| Fat Joe Don Cartagena The Crack Attack Yea, uhh "I bet you thought I left you hangin" Yea yea, yeah "I bet you thought I left you hangin" Terror Squad again.. long overdue baby "I-I-I bet you thought I left you hangin" Don Cartagena, bring you the best in hardcore hip-hop "J-J-Joe Crack returns bangin" Yea, uhh Yo it's the Don of rap, sippin Cognac, hit you on the back with the Mac (CLAK CLAK) slip you into cardiac It's the art of rap at the illest form from a killer's point of view, who thrives off the area jealous ones You could tell it's on from my introduction Hibernate the junction with killin somethin when you was barely dumpin You ain't even nuttin to worry about I flurried your mouth, with about thirty right in front of your house Then I'm hurryin out in the expedition, professional hit men The vestibule shit from the credible disses Federals is listenin to my conversations, tapin all the songs I'm makin Shakin down every ounce of my congregation John Blazin, raisin the stakes, changin your fate Tied up in my basement with a gauge in your face Make no mistake, that's how I do my thing Blow out a lot of brains, I'm sayin, it's not a game "Take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep (repeat 4X) Uhh, uhh, yea Joe Crack takin a L and make Tone roll over in his grave, never that T.S. got his dreams and discourage the brave, remember that I been bustin guns since the infamous days of leather hats Varsity sweaters with big letters black Pushin the illest whips down fifty-fifth where killers riff, without havin to split Phillies and sniff And Willies who shift jobs from Chili willin to leave you stiff Fulfillin my biggest wish, in this illegal shit Quarter Maris stay slugger with karats, never offered marriage When my corpse is carried my moms'll get all my cabbage Terror Squad is savage, draped in the finest of fabrics Floss like it's a habit, eight shot up in my Louis baggage You knew we knew we had you, lay half your crew in gravel Caught you slippin with your Boo and started shootin at you Out of captivity, left Relativity Now we on the Big-ger Beat, Terror Squad trilogy, what? "Take these words home and think it through Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep (repeat 8X) |
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