Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): R Perez, A Maman
Tweet this Song Follow Mp3Lyircs on Twitter
Send "'99 Live" Ringtone to your Cell
Terror Squad'99 Live Lyrics:
Don't be scared of this
(Terror Sqaud)
Don't be scared of this
(That's right, that's right)
Prospecto
Follow me here now
[CHORUS]
Throw your hands up
My live niggas in the cut, put your triggers up
If you got love say, "Nigga, nigga what"
(Nigga what) Like you don't give a fuck
Bitches playin niggas just to get a buck
Get a buck (Yeah, we hit em up) (2x)
[VERSE 1: Prospect]
Yo, it's the P-r-o-s-p-e-c-t
I'm a thug you can't ph.d. me
Catch me in the back of the club switchin it up
Type of nigga to get drunk and piss in your cup
Listen up to what it is, know a
lotta mamis lovin the triz
And some, they tryin to pull it off
right in front of the kids
Before I think about coming to cribs
I be lugging my glitz so big, on the
waist it be rubbing my ribs
It's very dangerous fuckin with this
I been doublin chips holdin my own
with the chrome double-grips
Up in the mix, caught a couple of vics
When I used to fight, but I ain't been scufflin since
This is as tough as it gets, never
leave nothin with prints
Or you get blast and you're chopped up
and stuffed in the fridge
They not playin me, I perfected this game from A to Z
The ones I don't know will need ropes to hands and knees
[CHORUS]
[VERSE 2: Prospect]
This shit'll never stop, as long as
I live, I'ma forever rock
And stop niggas right where they
standin when the baretta pop
My moms said I better not, but knew I had to
I said, "I'm bustin mines, and
ain't nobody movin at you"
She laughed too, like I was jokin, when I'm chrome-totin
I have a nigga in his home hopin I
don't blow his dome open
I stay stoned, smokin while I'm on the low, I'm copin
A cool guy, but at times you catch me Tone-Locin
Been through a lotta shit, but never had a bone broken
It's tragic how I rap shit with my own potion
>From here to Hoboken I was
hoppin trains with no token
Now I'm on stage, they say I'm show-boatin
My flow potent, cause it's mixed in raw
Spell it backwards, it's 'war'
The gat spits, you backflip through the door
I kill em all, Terror Squadian style
I only get down with the crown, only partyin wild
Ya heard
[CHORUS]
Now everybody from B-K, throw em up
Now everybody from New Jerz, throw em up
Now everybody from Q-B, throw em up
Now everybody from the B-X, throw em up
Now everybody from Staten Island, throw em up
To all my partners from Westside, throw em up
Now everybody from the East Coast, throw em up
If you Dirty like the South, throw em up
You better throw em up
My man Big Pun, hit em up
My man Joey Crack, hit em up
The whole Terror Squad hit em up
The Thoroughbreds, we hit em up
Prospect
'99
It's almost over, baby
Right
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
See this song in a different language (automatic translation)