Terror Squad

[Intro: Fat Joe]
Owwwwww!!!! yeah! my niggaz!!! uh huh!!!
Throw your hands in the air right now man!!!
Feel this shit right here! Scott Storch nigga!
Yeah Khalid I see you nigga!!!
Show Big Pun love! Uh! Yeah! Uh! Yo!
[Verse 1: Fat Joe]
I don't give a fuck about your faults or mishappens nigga
We from the Bronx, New York, shit happens
Kids clappin, love to spark the place
Half the niggaz in the squad got a scar on their face
It's a cold world and this is ice
Half a mill for the charm, nigga this is life
Got the Phantom in front of the buildin, Trinity Ave
Ten years been legit, they still figure me bad
As a young'n - was too much to cope with
Why you think – mu'fuckers nicknamed me Cook Coke shit
Shoulda been called Armed Robbery
Extortion, or maybe Grand Larceny
I did it all, I put the pieces to the puzzle
Just as long, I knew me and my peoples was 'gon bubble
Came out the gate on some Flow Joe shit
Fat nigga with the shotty was the logo kid!
[Chorus: Fat Joe]
Said my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
I said my niggaz don't dance we just pull up our pants
And do the rockaway, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back
(Come on!)
[Verse 2: Remy Martin]
R to the Ezzy, M to the Yzzy
My arms stay breezy, the Don stay flizzy
Got a date at 8, I'm in the 7-4-fizzive
And I just bought a bike so I can ride till I die
With a matchin jacket, 'bout to cop me a mansion
My niggaz in the club, but you know they not dancin
We gangsta, and gangstas don't dance with boogies
So never mind how we got in here with burners and hoodies
Listen we don't pay admission and the 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