Fight Club (feat. M.O.P. & Petey Pablo)

Terror Squad

First family

You see them diamonds gliserin' off that three-quarter length?

Dat dem dere polyesther (Uh, ****!)

Ya' heard me? (What the fuck, what the fuck, huh?!)

Terror Squad, Terror Squad (First family)

Yo, it's that motherfuckin' Bronx ****, Don shit

Run up in yo' Mom's crib

Ship-stacked biddomb shit

Gun up in the palm shit

Nobody moves, nobody get whacked with the contract

Just shot at they concert, they flopped on the concrete

I'm stone cold, I mean, I slap, then stomp

Then what's to stop my 40 Glock from rumblin' your calm streets?

I'm trouble when the Mobb Deep, loco enough for dolo

Blow holes through ya' carseat and roll over ya' Rover

Fuck this role model shit, I'm finna blow out ya' wig

Bitch, throw bottles to kids and get 'em thrown at they crib

It's the return of the worst shit that ever happened

Reborn like, "What's crackin'?", we formed with raw plastic

Blastin' off ya' doors with an awful passion

Forcin' the walls to crash in

You see them kids? I'll make 'em all bastards

Joey Crack, keep it gully

Known to clap, keep a fully

Automatic MAC, twenty on my lap, doin' thirty

Drivin' through the heights, tryna find these cats that did me dirty

Short me on the half, now I gotta blast 'em to the pearlies

We the realest **** ever touch the mic (Blah!)

And we love to fight (Blah!)

You heard my ****, "Ante up!", give up the fuckin' knife

We gonna break (Break!)

Mash (Mash!)

Brawl (Brawl!)

Clash (Clash!)

Fight up in the clubs, got no love for yo' ass

Get yo' rocks off, **** (Show me where you at!)

Get yo' opps up, **** (Open up his back!)

We gonna break (Break!)

Mash (Mash!)

Brawl (Brawl!)

Clash (Clash!)

Fight up in the clubs, got no love for yo' ass

Go get yo' rocks off, **** (Show me where you at!)

Get yo' opps up, **** (Open up his back!)

Yo, who that husky-ass ****, with that flow so dumb?

Comin' up outta Brooklyn lookin like Mighty Joe Young (Face down!)

Know we real

Got this motherfucker crackin' and buzzin' with my Latin cousin Joey Grills

(We international!)

One hundred and fifty-one proof

Letcha cold run loose, I give 'em a sunroof

For cotton-ass pretty boy, talkin' 'bout drama

With that nasty-ass Coogi suit, lookin' like pajamas

(Somebody gon' get hurt today!)

So be it, we the first (First)

Fam (Family!)

You see it

Put some trouble in ya' voice' homeboy, 'fore ya' get whacked in

Calm (Calm!)

Down (Down!)

Get back

For you **** that wanna trap me

I make families unhappy

I'm tied into the same shit as Boy George and Pappy

(Everybody know!)

Everybody wanna clap me

Tonight, I'm with my Spanish homie, Joey, so get at me

With the ghetto issued .45, semi-automatic, I (Spit)

With intentions (To rip)

Put-put pieces out yo' cabbage, bitch

Trained on the hill, aim at ****'s faces

Twist his hat back, seven paces, leave him standin' still

Cobra-ass **** (Huh?!)

You beg me to kill (Yeah!)

When I cock Glocks and pop, you beg me to, "Chill" (Chill!)

(Y'all remember Bill?)

Y'all remember the motherfuckin' deal

You will get yo' ass zipped up, how this feel, ****?

We gonna break (Break!)

Mash (Mash!)

Brawl (Brawl!)

Clash (Clash!)

Fight up in the clubs, got no love for yo' ass

Go get yo' rocks off, **** (Show me where you at!)

Get yo' opps up, **** (Open up his back!)

We gonna break (Break!)

Mash (Mash!)

Brawl (Brawl!)

Clash (Clash!)

Fight up in the clubs, got no love for yo' ass

Go get yo' rocks off, **** (Show me where you at!)

Get yo' opps up, **** (Open up his back!)

Oh motherfucker, uh-uh, y'all ain't seen nuttin' yet

Got a call from the Bronx best, bitch, and I was right there

Duck tape, grip-plier, half a g, turpentine

Two nickel-nine, Macdonald, cup of richie wine

Wish a motherfucker would, look and he shall find

Ten million ways to die

I'm the thickest of the fire, ain't too many **** 'round want to rumble

With the rawest in the jungle, blicky bloaw-bloaw!

Bitch, I break 'em down (Down)

With Terror Squad now

Ya' pretty bad (Close your mouth)

Sit down, get up, get out

Hottest thing they got in the south (Petey pablo)

If ya' don't know, now ya' know, holla at 'em, Joe

Fight Club, Fight Club

Fight Club, Fight Club

Fight Club, Fight Club, holla at 'em, Joe

We gonna break (Break!)

Mash (Mash!)

Brawl (Brawl!)

Clash (Clash!)

Fight up in the clubs, got no love for yo' ass

Go get yo' rocks off, **** (Show me where you at!)

Get yo' opps up, **** (Open up his back!)

We gonna break (Break!)

Mash (Mash!)

Brawl (Brawl!)

Clash (Clash!)

Fight up in the clubs, got no love for yo' ass

Go get yo' rocks off, **** (Show me where you at!)

Get yo' opps up, **** (Open up his back!)

First family

Terror Squad