Fat Joe, Petey Pablo, M.O.P. - Fight Club lyrics

Ch-ch-ch-ch yeah (Terror Squad first Family)
AHHHHHHHHHHH! (yeah, hahahah)
You see them diamonds gliserin
Off that three-quarterla (Ha ha ha)
Dat dem dere polyesther (Uh, nigga)
Hahaha, ya heard me?
(What the fuck, what the fuck, huh?)
(Terror Squad first Family)
Oh!, oh! (oh) oh! (oh) oh! (oh)
Oh! (oh) oh! (oh)

Yeah, yeah uh
Yo it's that motherfuckin Bronx
Nigga Don shit run up in yo' mom's crib
Ship-stacked biddomb shit - gun up
In the palm shit nobody moves
Nobody get whacked with the contrict
Yo' shot at they concert
It's locked on the concrete
I'm Stone Cold, I mean I slap then stomp
Then what's to stop my 40 Glock
From rumblin your calm streets?
I'm troubled when I on deep
Loco enough for dolo
Blow holes in ya carseat and
Roll over ya Rover
Fuck this role model shit I'm
Finna blow out ya wig
Bitch! Throw bottles to kid and get
'em thrown at ya crib
It's the return of the worst
Shit that ever happened
Reborn like what's crackin
We formed with raw plastic
Blastin off ya doors with an awful passion
Forcin the walls to crash in
You see them kids, I'll make 'em all bastards
Joey Crack - keep it gully
Known to clap - keep a fully
Automatic mack whodie on my lap - doin thirty
Drivin through the Heights tryna find these
Cats that did me dirty shot me on the Ave
Now I gotta blast until them pearlies
We the realest niggas ever touch the mic
(BLAH) and we love to fight (BLAH)
You heard my niggas
(ANTE UP) give up the fuckin knife!

We gonna break! - (break)
MASH! - (MASH) brawl! - (brawl!
Clash! - (clash) fight up in them clubs
Got no love for yo' ass!
Get yo' ass up nigga! Show me where you at!
Get yo' ass up nigga! Open up his back!

Yo who that husky-ass nigga with
The flow so dumb
Comin up outta Brooklyn lookin
Like Mighty Joe Young
(FACE DOWN) Know we real
- got this motherfucker
Crackin and buzzin with my
Latin cousin Joey Grills
(WE INTERNATIONAL) 151 proof
Letcha cold run loose, I give 'em a sunroof
For cotton-ass pretty boy talkin bout drama
With that nasty-ass Coogi suit
Lookin like pajamas
(SOMEBODY GON' GET HURT TODAY) So be it
We the First
(First) Fam (Family) - You see it!
Put some trouble in ya voice homeboy
Fore ya get whacked in
Calm (calm) down (down) get - back!

For you niggas that wanna trap me
I make families unhappy
I'm tied into the same shit
As Boy George and Papi
(E'RYBODY KNOW) Everybody wanna clap me
Tonight I'm with my Spanish homie Joey
So get at me with the ghetto issued 45
Semi-automatic
I (SPIT) with intentions (TO RIP)
Put-put pieces out yo' cabbage bitch
Trained on the Hill, aim at niggas faces
Push his hat back seven paces
- leave him standin still cobra-ass nigga
(Huh?) You beg me to kill (yeah)
When I cock Glocks and pop
You beg me to chill (Chill)
(Y'ALL REMEMBER BILL) Y'all remember
The motherfuckin deal
You will get yo' ass zipped up
How this feel nigga?!

Oh motherfucker uh uh
Y'all ain't seen nuttin yet
Got a call from the Bronx Best
Bitch and I was right there
Duck tape, grip ply, havogee, turpentine
Two nickel nine, MacDonald
Cup of richie wine
Wish a motherfucker would
Look and he shall find
Ten million ways to die!
I'm the thickest of the fire
Ain't to many niggas round with the rumble
With the rawest in the jungle
Blicky BLOAW BLOAW! Bitch I break 'em down
(DOWN) with Terror Squad now
Ya pretty bad, clumsy mouth
Sit down - get up get out
Hottest thang they got in the south
(Petey Pablo) if ya don't know now ya know
- holla at 'em joe!
Fight club! - Fight club!
Fight club! - Fight club!
Fight club! - Fight club! HOLLA AT 'EM JOE!

Yeah, huh, yeah, huh?! (Ha ha ha)
First Family, Terror Squad