Back to the previous page

Artist: Terror Squad f/ Fat Joe
Album:  Terror Squad - The Album
Song:   Bring it On
Typed by:

[Fat Joe]
Yea yea, what
uh, Terror Squad
uh, from the streets to the jail cell
I mean, my niggaz is facin death penalties and all that
Charlie Rock LD
Yea yea, this go out to you my nigga
Yo, yo
[Verse 1]
Ain't no solution for this
Since day one I been true to this shit
Often niggaz try to shoot but they miss
I been provin to hit so you know its really real
I went from chillin on the hills to signin deals worth fitty (fifty) mil
Self made millionaire status
We all gettin money but its funny how mine makes niggaz maddest
Come at us if you ready for war
Whoever you are
Leave you dead in your hall leakin red on the floor
Better than y'all
Niggaz need to face the facts
Since the days of crack I been blazin gats - tryin to raise my stats
Tracin back - you could find me at a racin track
Laced in black - bettin on a horse called Amazin Jack
Joey Crack's the illest - fully backed my killaz
Hoppin outta 18 wheelas - like mad gorillas
Niggaz need to calm they nerves when I'm concerned
Cause if you didn't know by now - you all  gone learn
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I ain't know you really want it
How am I supposed to know there's something when you keep frontin
Dont want no people wantin to play my game
And if you really want the problems nigga say my name
Bring it on, come on
[Verse 2]
I puts it down with Pun
Now all I do is lounge in the sun
Look what I done from the slums - to sportin 5 thousand and ones
See the ice glitter - I only walk with them nice niggaz
Sheist niggaz that quit it for doin life niggaz
You had a judge - we came through in the clutch
Fifty fifth- ain't no what to do when I came through wit'cha
The Don Polly - you could find me as fresh as Denali
In times probably even marching at an Al Sharpton rally
I often carry thats the price of fame
Got precise the fame snipe you with the rifle and unlight your brain
It ain't a game - its real niggaz with real guns
That still run - caught a box- and pump ox by the millions
Before the children thats confusin life
The voodoo type that'll pull out the UZ (uzi) and make you lose your life
The news is tight - I got em hangin by the neck
Man you tanglin with vets when you bangin with TS (what, WHAT THE FUCK!)

Yeah, yeah, this joint right here is dedicated
to everybody who put it down for Terror Squad! I mean originators
Gizmo, Cosmo rest in peace, baby!
Shout to Little Hec', GQ, Andy, Black Day, Big Hov, Paiteen
Sing-Sing, DJ Surge, Alpo, my nigga Full Flex, Raoul
money man where you at? Macho, Bobbito, Lucky Legs Luciano
Italian Joe, Gomez, King Duke, Kemini Kai
Rest in peace to my nigga Tony Montana; I love you forever, baby! 
Rest in peace to Semi C, Big Nacho, Little Frankie, B.O., Little Rahim - 25 to life
Forest Projects, McKinley, The Foundation, Webster 3673 Third Ave.
We laying down like that. Terror Squad baby
Tasters suckers, Trinity stars, talents survivors
Call it what you want baby, simple as that, simple as that