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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: Terror Squad - Yeah, Yeah, Yeah

[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
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

[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!

 

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