[Intro: Termanology]
Termanology!
You so! You so! (You so!)
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!
Show off!
Uh!
[Verse 1: Termanology]
Ayo, I... send my condolences, to any rapper holdin' the crown
I'ma blow his wig off his body and roast some piff (Let's go)
I'm with my dudes, blickers move when I'm with the goons
Pistols pulled on any rapper that wanna diss the crew
I'm with the Switzerland wolves, we 'bout to spit some jewels
Put a MC in intensive care and flare him with the tools (Hahahahahahaha)
I'm the hardest spitter and I got the heart to kill ya
I put your squad up in the grave, then I party with you (Come on)
You not soldiers, you stock brokers, the Glock's smokin'
I'm Pac, Hova, Nas; I'mma start rock and rollin'
I'm Michelangelo, eatin' you like a cannibal
Greetin' you with my hammer-lo, deepest flow, I'm mechanical
Mandible like Canibus, render these rappers like amateurs
Panickin' what you should be, my UZI weighin' a ton or two
I got determination, that's right, the Term' is waitin'
To turn your safe into my personal bank and burn your paper (Woo)
The MC slaughterer, pardon us, we make horror flicks
We choppin' bodies like calamari, ya pounds of fish
On the scale Lucky Lefty, Sonnie turn your vessy messy
It's Termanology, rock with me, I be reppin' ST
[Hook: Lil' Fame]
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Uh)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground (uh), get off the ground
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Come on)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground, get off the ground, yeah (Ahhhwoo)
[Verse 2: Sean Price]
P!
Yo, you can't rap, understand, fam, you can't rap
Overhand blam (yeah), you got slapped
Now get off the ground (ground), pull my dick off a ral
Click and hiccup the pound (Hah)
Pop a few bars, who eat and devour the bars
Nice rip you a bitch, still a coward in cars
Off the marijuana, I will Sarah Connor your squad
On the scene clean, we are the champions, pa (Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhwoo)
Rap Goula, it's a wrap, the gat shoot you (Pah)
Dough fight the dyke, Lou Duva
Provoke mic, icepick your bitch, shoot coolers
P, good night, pa, you a loser
Haha, listen, I rap better than most dudes
Most dudes can't rap and tap on your boat shoes
P, bust my nine
Sean Price, nigga, Justin Tyme, let's do it
[Hook: Lil' Fame]
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Uh)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground (uh), get off the ground
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Come on)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground, get off the ground, yeah (Ahhhwoo)
[Verse 3: Ruste Juxx]
Machine gun skunk, I blow dolo
That's why yo' bitch jocked me like Polo (Yeah)
I ain't gotta go get it 'cause I got it on me (Hah)
I smell like palm trees, nothing but exotic on me
Hoes get erotic on me (ahwoo), I put the pipe down
Stick the pipe in her mouth, tell her pipe down
Now lick a shot for niggas doing life inside
Grabbing you by the neck, sticking the knife inside
It's B-R-double-O-K (K)
Double A-K bringin' trouble your way (Grrah)
Knock niggas out, they can't get off the ground
Shell cases found, the cops get off the ground
So put a muzzle on that bi-suiter rap shit
Nigga, knuckle up, cock Rugers back, bitch
Ruste Juxx bullets blow out your brain (Brain)
Think it's a game, listen to Lil' Fame
[Hook: Lil' Fame]
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Uh)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground (uh), get off the ground
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Come on)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground, get off the ground, yeah (Ahhhwoo)
[Verse 4: Justin Tyme]
Hah, yeah, hah
Yeah
Justin Tyme (Justin Tyme)
Hah, c'mon, yo
Fuck lyrical assassins, padding the truth (Hah)
We gonna carry the verse up when we get in the booth (Come on)
Nothing to prove, ask Statik, yeah, we got on the proof (Hah)
Everybody follow his watchin', yeah, you better salute (Oh)
Nobody move until we say so, from Murda Mass to BK
You better lay low, hoe (Hah, come on, yeah)
It's a takeover (yeah), the game's over, we stay sober
It ain't over, who told you, dawg, we can't honor (Oh yeah!)
It's the 2K11 and we still push figures (Yeah)
Got mad haters, but they still don't get us (Come on)
It's the Clash of the Titans, you want beef start bitin' (Yeah, yeah)
Like Iron Mike Tyson in his prime make you frightened (Word)
We got the tracks, Mr. Who Gon' Blast (Word)
Legendary friend, got the hook on smash (Hah, hah, hah)
Yeah, we make all these cute girls turn bad (Yeah)
It's a no-brainer (come on), 'bout to the steal the game, go [?]
[Hook: Lil' Fame]
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Uh)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground (uh), get off the ground
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Come on)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground, get off the ground, yeah (Ahhhwoo)
[Verse 5: Hannibal Stax]
Move, motherfucker, what part you ain't understand?
I'll murder something with the steel in my hand
Blaow, blaow, blaow (Yeah)
Knock something off quick
Can't dance with the wolves I walk with, real talk shit
We howl at the moon, let you feel that boom (Woo)
Suck it, run or you are doomed
Send your punk-ass to the upper room
We do this, AM's, PM's, evenings and afternoons (Hah)
Mornings, it's on, a new day is dawnin'
Poppin' off over here, international warnin'
From New York to Switzerland, we gets it in
Competition, don't want none
We send them things whistlin'
Vision that, holla back, it's beast mode
Unleashed through the collar rap
Who got a problem with that? Hey, yo, Slap
These clowns get slapped, word to G-ma, it’s H-Stax
[Hook: Lil' Fame]
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Uh)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground (uh), get off the ground
If you don't wanna get buried alive, or get tossed in the grave
You better get off the ground (come on), get off the ground (Come on)
From New York (New York), we do it our way
You better get off the ground, get off the ground, yeah (Ahhhwoo)
[Outro: Lil' Fame]
Yeah!