The Crack Attack Lyrics by Fat Joe

The Crack Attack Lyrics

    Yea, uhh
    "I bet you thought I left you hangin"
    Yea yea, yeah
    "I bet you thought I left you hangin"
    Terror Squad again.. long overdue baby
    "I-I-I bet you thought I left you hangin"
    Don Cartagena, bring you the best in hardcore hip-hop
    "J-J-Joe Crack returns bangin"

    Yea, uhh
    Yo it's the Don of rap, sippin Cognac, hit you on the back
    with the Mac (CLAK CLAK) slip you into cardiac
    It's the art of rap at the illest form
    from a killer's point of view, who thrives off the area jealous ones
    You could tell it's on from my introduction
    Hibernate the junction with killin somethin when you was barely dumpin
    You ain't even nuttin to worry about
    I flurried your mouth, with about thirty right in front of your house
    Then I'm hurryin out in the expedition, professional hit men
    The vestibule shit from the credible disses
    Federals is listenin to my conversations, tapin all the songs I'm makin
    Shakin down every ounce of my congregation
    John Blazin, raisin the stakes, changin your fate
    Tied up in my basement with a gauge in your face
    Make no mistake, that's how I do my thing
    Blow out a lot of brains, I'm sayin, it's not a game

    "Take these words home and think it through
    Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep
    (repeat 4X)

    Uhh, uhh, yea
    Joe Crack takin a L and make Tone roll over in his grave, never that
    T.S. got his dreams and discourage the brave, remember that
    I been bustin guns since the infamous days of leather hats
    Varsity sweaters with big letters black
    Pushin the illest whips down fifty-fifth
    where killers riff, without havin to split Phillies and sniff
    And Willies who shift jobs from Chili willin to leave you stiff
    Fulfillin my biggest wish, in this illegal shit
    Quarter Maris stay slugger with karats, never offered marriage
    When my corpse is carried my moms'll get all my cabbage
    Terror Squad is savage, draped in the finest of fabrics
    Floss like it's a habit, eight shot up in my Louis baggage
    You knew we knew we had you, lay half your crew in gravel
    Caught you slippin with your Boo and started shootin at you
    Out of captivity, left Relativity
    Now we on the Big-ger Beat, Terror Squad trilogy, what?

    "Take these words home and think it through
    Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep
    (repeat 8X)

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