[Cuban Link]
Yeah, the foundation, L.G.P
Latins Goin Platinum baby!
Yeah yeah, yeah..
Uhh, 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 (uhh, yeah)
We rock the party and..
[Verse 1: Cuban Link]
Yeah, I tear the club up, pull up in the Hummer
With Pun my fuckin' brother, makin' motherfuckers run for cover
The number runner, son, I'm nothin' but a hustler
Burnin' rubber with drugs, stuffed up in the muffler
Shut the fuck up, bust a slug through your jugular
Plus suckers get fucked up with golf clubs
Never front on us, TS baby, straight out the BX, baby
So if they BS, we deeper than the US Navy
You ain't crazy, laid up in the club like "What?"
With all the ladies, showin' us nothin' but love
Guzzlin' 80, proof to truth, straight to the gut
In a Mercedes coupe, fucked 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 sexy as fuck
So, nigga, what?
[Chorus: Big Pun and Cuban Link]
[Pun] Tear the club up!
[Link] Cause we don't care
[Pun] E'rybody strip
[Link] Yeah we don't care
[Pun] Shoot the place up!
[Link] Yeah we don't care (nuh-ah)
We don't care (nuh-AH!)
We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!)
[Link] Yeah we don't care
[Pun] T. Squaders
[Link] Yes, yeah we don't care
[Pun] Fuck you nigga!
[Link] Nah we don't care (nuh-ah)
We don't care (nuh-AH!)
We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!)
[Verse 2: Big Pun]
Yo, I'm livin in madness, given the Spanish props
I got to have it, loadin and bustin' up mad clips
Gettin' up asses, grabbin' the girls on they asses
Duck when the mac hits or be dead before your body falls
Cause when my shotty roars, we ignore Giuliani laws
My trigger got no heart, nigga, 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 niggas wild for the night
My lead ready to peel this shit really real
My clip really filled, your chick better chill
My dick fit to kill, we fittin to ill
No survivors, frozen Godivas or roses and flowers
Flower the graves of those opposin the Squaders
Thrown in the garbage, like funky pajamas
Word to my junkie mama, I'ma keep it funky for homies up in Elmira
You fuckin with scholars, street knowledge
Carter kids stuck to the projects
Go ahead keep checkin' that ball
N' me n' Cuban gon' keep doublin our chips
Keep talkin that thug shit like you bored
In a year? when you gonna buck shit?
Word to my son Chris
And what? this count as more shit
[Chorus: Big Pun and Cuban Link]
[Pun] Tear the club up!
[Link] Cause we don't care
[Pun] E'rybody strip
[Link] Yeah we don't care
[Pun] Shoot the place up!
[Link] Yeah we don't care (nuh-ah)
We don't care (nuh-AH!)
We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!)
[Link] Yeah we don't care
[Pun] T. Squaders
[Link] Yes, yeah we don't care
[Pun] Fuck you nigga!
[Link] Nah we don't care (nuh-ah)
We don't care (nuh-AH!)
We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!)
[Cuban Link]
Uhh..
Yeah..
Big Punisher..
Cuban Link..
Terror Squad..
Y'all wanna party? Gon' party our way..
Anything goes..
The code of the streets, WHAT WHAT? ..
