เนื้อเพลง Fight Club - Fat Joe

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Ch-ch-ch-ch... Yeah
(Terror Squad.. First Family..)
AHHHHHHHHHHH!!! (Yeah, hahahah!)
You see them diamonds gliserin off that three-quarterla (Hahaha)
Dat dem dere polyesther (Uh, n*gga!)
Hahaha, ya heard me? (What the f*ck, what the f*ck, huh?!)
(Terror Squad... First Family...)
OH!, OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!)
OH! (OH!) OH! (OH!)

[Fat Joe]
Yeah, yeah uh
Yo it's that motherf*ckin Bronx n*gga Don sh*t
Run up in yo' mom's crib
Ship-stacked biddomb sh*t - gun up in the palm sh*t
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
F*ck this role model sh*t I'm finna blow out ya wig
B*tch! Throw bottles to kid and get 'em thrown at ya crib
It's the return of the worst sh*t 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 n*ggaz ever touch the mic (BLAH!)
And we love to fight (BLAH!)
You heard my n*ggaz (ANTE UP!) give up the f*ckin knife!

[Hook] - 2x
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 N*GGA!
SHOW ME WHERE YOU AT!
GET YO' ASS UP N*GGA!
OPEN UP HIS BACK!

[Lil' Fame]
Yo who that husky-ass n*gga with the flow so dumb
Comin up outta Brooklyn lookin like Mighty Joe Young
(FACE DOWN!) Know we real - got this motherf*cker
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!

[Billy Danze]
For you n*ggaz that wanna trap me
I make families unhappy
I'm tied into the same sh*t 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 b*tch
Trained on the Hill, aim at n*ggaz faces
Push his hat back seven paces - leave him standin still
Cobra-ass n*gga (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 motherf*ckin deal
You will get yo' ass zipped up, how this feel n*gga?!!

[Hook - 2x]

[Petey Pablo]
Oh motherf*cker uh-uh, y'all ain't seen nuttin yet
Got a call from the Bronx Best, b*tch and I was right there
Duck tape, grip ply, havogee, turpentine
Two nickel nine, MacDonald, cup of richie wine
Wish a motherf*cker would, look and he shall find
TEN MILLION WAYS TO DIE!
I'm the thickest of the fire
Ain't to many n*ggaz round with the rumble
With the rawest in the jungle, blicky BLOAW BLOAW!!
B*tch 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!

[Hook - 2x]

Yeah, huh, yeah, huh?! (Hahaha)
First Family, Terror Squad....