Freestyle Songtext
von Fat Joe & Remy Martin

Yo, yo, yo
What the fuck? Terror Squad
All we do is battle
What, what, what, what?

Yo, it′s the cream shatterer, strictly for cream team battler
Ring rattling, microphone fiends gleam splatterer
King of the throne, bringing it home, five nights
Up in The Source, five mics, whipping a Porsche, high price
Bumping the '97, rhyme heaven, her voice is mind-bending
Imagine the Angie, nothing but panties in my 911
That′s what I'm repping, the thug, second to glove
Step in the mud with less than a SCUD, I'm splitting your rug
It′s just I′m in love with Mrs. Martinez
Latin goddess of Venus, who just happened to give me the hardest
You wanna see us apart, you're chasing the dart
Long as she won the battle, she got a place in my heart


All of a sudden, the big question is
Yo, who this bitch, reminisce
Is she really thorough, and what borough do she represent?
Do Remy write every line in every rhyme that she spit?
Is she really the shit? Is her flow really sick?
Get off my dick, keep your sorry-ass compliments
I get mad quick, y′all know Remy ain't got no sense
Bitch, don′t try to play me, because you not a player
Believe me, you don't really wanna see my gangsta
It′s easy to cock back and smack the shit out a ho
Had to leave niggas bleeding just so we could get our dough
They get me heated, that's why I wild out for no reason
On the Bruckner, like fuck it, getting weeded and speeded
I'm untouchable, nigga, I ain′t never have love for you niggas
′Cause y'all pussy, that′s why I ain't never fuck with you niggas
Motherfuckers is scandal, on the Avenue of Randall
Don′t slip into some shit you and your clique can't really handle
I ain′t having it, get the cash out the cabinet
Before I stab the bastard baby in the bassinet
I'll body a body, boy, blow his gut open
Leave son choking, gun still smoking
Know how many niggas like, "I bet you Pun wrote it"
Y'all can all take a dirty dildo and deep throat it