[Intro - Fat Joe talking]
Cool & Dre, uh
Terror Squad motherfuckers
They're all gonna laugh at ya, haha
They're all gonna laugh at ya
Yeah, (YO), uh, (oh God), haha
Haha (feedin you, feedin you)
Yo (feedin you, feedin you)

[Fat Joe]
Yo, uh, yo, call me the JV artist
That means I own two joint ventures and two different labels, n***as that pay me homage
Been in this game for nine seasons
That's nine reasons why I'm expired the rhyme beefin
Ya'll n***as is rappin ass backwards
I left twenty spots since beginnin this rap shit
All yo papi lo que pasa contigo
Mad cause I'm the only n***a reppin our people
When I came in this game, no one wanted the job
All of a sudden n***as actin like they wanna go hard
Spittin venom 'bout the Squad, try and shittin the God
This ain't no "Scarface" shit, blow up your kids in the car
And since you wanna act like you livin a movie
I'll hit you with more shots than Bruce Lee got in a "Fist of Fury"
Bitch n***as, nothin but snitch n***as
Today you on my dick, tomorrow you on his n***a
Got deported from the Squad, can't afford another car
Where's your house at? I heard your livin with your moms (livin with your moms)
Blane n***a better stay in your place
Keep talkin, burst a flame in your face, motherfucker
[Armageddon]
Yo, yo, with this comparison the Geddy is God
Cause even though you never seen me, I been put fear in your hearts
And I'm smooth like a Mulo it theme
Skip bullets of your Coogi beam
Before you knew you were seen
Yeah I'm nice and I don't care if you know
Cause all you really need to understand is how hard I'm rulin with Joe
And the streets is no place for late bloomers
Just gangsta n***as, snakes and bitches that meant to spread rumors
Listen, I'm from the Bronx were the gun shoot rabid
Front if you want, but don't think we don't shoot rapids
I'm what some might consider a ghost
Cause I move at night, plus I'm the type to play a live n***a close
I'm the ultimate, high consulted, rhyme vocalist
I write dope, spit dust and shit cocoa bricks
This is what you dicks need to act-knowledge
Or get the shit smacked outta ya fat cabbage
Don't ask why we act violent
We just killas and thugs
N***as wit mad talent, that still dabble in drugs
I only rap now to speak to the streets
They say the Squad gotta feed 'em the beef
So we gonna feed 'em the beef

[Prospect]
My nine milly blaze, and hit hard like Willy Mays
Since my kiddy days, grew up with thugs who were really crazed
Ain't no silly games, right here be the truth
150 proof, whoever, I'm talkin to you
They call me Prospect, I'm one in a mil
One of the real, I rap but I still put a gun in your grill
I'm the reason why I catch you when your car breezin by, with your Iceberg team
You look when the light turns green
Your scared to death, don't make me have to air at ya chest
Or tear ya flesh, for actin like I carin whats left
Anyone can get it in a minute give it some time, I'm livin this rhyme
Let my nine get in your spine, sit and recline
Get so mad, forget and rewind
So I can see what I did again and just slide
To the next level, hop on the bike and just pedal
Bustin at your best rebel, who runnin to test medal
Let me get settled, lay my mom down in this game
For n***as kinda refain, I push 'em down in the train
Bout it the same, my three cousins up in the Benz
Big, G Psycho and E, ya'll know what this is
[Remy Martin]
Yo, yo, It's the T, E, a R a, a R a, O, R Squad
So you know I gotta be that bitch Remy Mar
With Armageddon and your n***a Joe The God
Tony Sunshine and motherfuckin Prospect
Straight out the projects
A forest, where they kill for mils and they blast the steel
But I'm from murda murda Castle Hill
I got a big ass burner, but I'll slash your grill
Yo don't got no status, don't want no static
They knew you was loco toto, and I don't no Spanish
All I know is how to cock back and aim for the cabbage
And keep on bustin 'til the bitch brain splatter
And the kids won't matter, when the crib's on fire
What you spit don't matter, cause this bitch on fire
And I won't stop rockin 'til I retire
Any bitch disagree is a god damn liar

[Outro - Fat Joe talking]
Yeah, uh infamous Terror Squad n***a
Loyalty, what does it mean to you
How many a ya'll n***as is loyal?
All these Benedict Arnold n***as
Switch sidin n***as, ya heard?
N***a I throw this whole rap shit out the window in a sec, ya heard?
Joe Crack the Don Diggler
The savior, Caesar, the streets is mine n***a
We ride, who wanna test the record launcher, ya see 'em?
Uh, haha, feedin you, feedin you, feedin you
Make your move baby, c'mon
Step up baby
They're all gonna laugh at ya
(*laughing*), woo, BX