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[Fat Joe talking] (Mack 10)
Yeah, Terror Squad motherfucker!
(And the Hoo Bangin affiliates.) Uh huh.
I know you ain't think you was gon see this niggas.
(Nope.) East coast, west coast. (It's all the same.)
Joey Crack, Big Pun, Mack 10.
(Speak on it, Joe.)
Haha, niggas what!

[Fat Joe]
At times I feel like blastin myself, endin it all
Niggas on my same team be prayin I fall
Tellin the feds, that I'm still cappin the raw
Know all about the stash box on the floor of my Porshe
Boy George-in it, livin the life of the fortunate
Show you how warm my fuckin coffee get
My crew often get the blame for hideous crimes
Why do niggas stay platinum with the shitiest rhymes?
Can't call it, all these niggas claim that they ballin
But it appears your empire's fallen
Fuckin with Joe and Pun, real niggas since day one
The same cats you get ?terroria? from
East coast, west coast, man it's all the same
Niggas won't know shit till they feel the flame
It's still insane, since the flow track
Blowin your whole back, with the mack, we'll let ya know black

[Hook:] X 2
It's all about weight, work, guns, yay
Real motherfuckers chase dough and don't play
Y'all motherfuckers don't move, we don't spray
Big Pun, Fat Joe, Mack 10 baby