Yeah, the foundation, L.G.P.
Latins goin' Platinum baby!
Yeah yeah, yeah
Uh, year 2000
Terror Squadians (Terror Squad)
We rock the party and (you won't like me when I'm angry)
(I guarantee you, you won't like me when I'm angry)
Yeah, yeah, yeah Terror Squadians
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (uh, yeah)
We rock the party and
Yeah! I tear the club up, pull up in the Humer with Pun
My f**in' brother, makin' motherf**ers run for cover
The number runner son, I'm nothin' but a hustler
Burnin rubber with d**, stuffed up in the muffler
Shut the f** up! Bust a slug through your jugular
Plus s**ers get f**ed up with golf clubs, never front on us
T.S. baby, straight out the B.X. baby
So if they B.S., we deeper than the you.S. Navy
You ain't crazy, laid up in the club like what?
With all the ladies, showin us nothin' but love
Guzzlin eighty, proof to truth, straight to the gut
In a Mercedes, Coupe f**ed up doin a buck
If Jakes chase me, I'm cuttin off trucks, pressin' my luck
It's all gravy, puffin the blunt, blazin' it up
Maybe you hate me, 'cause your baby mom's on my nuts
She wanna rape me, just because I'm s**y as f**
So n***a what?
[Chorus]
Tear the club up!
'cause we don't care
E'rybody strip
Yeah we don't care
Shoot the place up!
Yeah we don't care (nuh-ah)
We don't care (nuh-AH!)
We don't care! (nah hah!)
Yeah we don't care
T. Squaders
Yes, yeah we don't care
f** you n***a!
Nah we don't care (nuh-ah)
We don't care (nuh-ah!)
We don't care! (nah hah!)
Yo, I'm livin' in mansions, give me the Spanish props
I got to have it
Loadin' and bustin' a mac, did sh** in the past
Was grabbin' the girls on they a**es
Duck when the mac hits or be dead before your body falls
Cause when my shotty roars we ignore Guiliani laws
My trigger got no heart n***a, I'm blowin' apart liver
And holdin the glocks, call to the cops, I'm blowin' the spot
Baby better head for the hills, my n***as wild for the night
My lead ready to peel this sh** really real
My clip fillity fill your chick with a chill
My dick quick to k**, we fittin to ill
No survivors, frozen Godivas or roses and flowers
Sour the grapes for those opposin' the Squaders
Thrown in the garbage, like funky pajamas, word to my junkie mama
I'ma keep it funky for homies livin' tomorrow
You f**in' with scholars, street knowledge
Carter kids stuck to the projects
Go ahead keep checkin that mall
And me and Cuban gon' keep doublin our chips
Keep talkin' that dumb sh** like you want it
Yeah when are you gonna buck sh**
? this mug sh**
[Chorus]
Uh
Yeah
Big Punisher
Cuban Link
Terror Squad
Y'all wanna party? gon' party our way
Anything goes
The code of the streets, what what?