Yeah Yeah Yeah

Terror Squad

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    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Check it

    [Verse One: Remy Martin]
    You see the girl get it popping like no other
    Now they call me Streets cause I, be on the block and I'm so gutter
    My flow a butter; see Rem got a whole lot of game
    but none of y'all lame dudes going to fuck her
    I'm on some chill shit
    But if you fronting then I will flip
    I'll give it to a little chick real quick
    Oh you a real bitch? You ain't a bit real
    You got little tits and your face looks like Emmitt Till
    First I'm a get it hot, then I'm a get a deal
    My budget none stop, mine paying 10 mills
    And when I'm not in the hood, I'm rocking the hood
    smoke Vanilla dutches and stuff on Holly-a-wood
    And if I, pollyin the dick it's got to be good
    I tell him I could change his life just like the lottery could
    And now I got him good, he believes me and he should
    Some dudes won't go down but a lot of them would
    I know this nigga name, Eat-it-out, he like to eat it out
    I just cooked in the crib and he still want to eat it out (Damn!)
    Oh God its Remy Martin
    In a hot pink Porsche with the purple carpets
    Nigga!

    [Hook: Remy Martin]
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah

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    [Remy]
    Oh God!

    [Verse Two: Fat Joe]
    Hot enough swinging Crack, who could believe he's in the cockpit (cockpit)
    Overseas moving ki's like a locksmith (yeah)
    Rocks from Witsick in the sits of neck (ok)
    All I do is warn cause that's the big boy jet (ok)
    Uh, you never rocked with the R in Chicago (noo!)
    I picked up a bad bitch in a Marcielago (noo!)
    I got cribs better year estates man (man)
    I'm in L.A. with Atlanta plates fam (fam)
    Still niggaz wanna go against Crack (Crack!)
    But that's like ??? going against Shaq (Shaq!)
    And that's too much diesel, I got too much people (people)
    Motherfuckers, you crazy I'll leave you (leave you!)
    And I ain't got to tell how many sets I trip
    But you can find me on the woods now that's a testament
    Or maybe at a lounge with an extra bitch
    Eyecandy of the month, God damn she sick!
    She got a problem, I can help her with that
    Tell her man that she's fuckin with Crack
    Bet he won't do nothin (nope)
    Frontin like he gon' do somethin (nope)
    Quick to tell you that his whole crew stunting (talk to him!)
    Talk to me, c'mon

    [Hook: Remy Martin]
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
    Yeah yeah yeah yeah

    Yeah!

    [Fat Joe]
    Yeah, feel that right there
    Nod your head to this shit right here, that real hip-hop right there
    It's Cook Coke Crack, TS, Remy Mar
    Album coming, summer's ours cocksuckers
    True Story, BX Burough, Uh!

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Lalo Schifrin y Mike Curb

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