Triplets

Since day one, niggaz died at the Don

cause I was anon, now Terror Squad is a thousand beyond

Not only strong but we loyal and royally treated

Quadripalegic any squad that wanna squab when I'm heated

Not even God can believe it, the way we regulate

and levitate, heavyweight niggaz like they was featherweight

Every day I do the same thang

It's the paid game, to amputate more body parts than gangrene

Yo this a man's game, it's a shame how niggaz truly mock me

But who can stop me, from breakin niggaz off like Fujiyaki?

My crew's probably the only niggaz that really live the lyrics

Niggaz really fear us, they must of heard we really killers

We're Philly fillers and 40 guzzlers with millimeters

and army cutters Willie niggaz that laundry dollars

I'm Nostradamus predictin the future, my position is crucial

with a known friction obsession addicition to shoot ya *BLAM*

Hey yo I'm better off dead than givin the feds the satisfaction

Subtractin my freedom have me missin in action

A fraction of y'all, raw like Colt to the jaw

The rest of y'all, fear war, and couldn't follow out the protocol

Joe the God is like the angel of death, strangle your neck

That's why Don Cartagena's the name your respect

I bring the pain to your chest, that'll make you question your threshold

Flex like you been forced, still "bless you" like a chest cold

We destined to explode, that's why I stay on flip mode

Your dick rode me long enough Dunn, now you can let go

Every man in this world has a destiny

Can't no other rapper in this game get the best of me; unless you just

def dumb and blind you know the pedigree

Better get ready because I'm dead in the middle of little Italy

Uh, uh, uh, yo!

Somebody hold me back, Joey Crack's about to load the gat

and blow this track to the stars like the zodiac

Hold me back this max n better, out for the ass n cheddar

But fast cash don't last forever

I asked the felons, if I don't stay wrapped in leathers

and hats with feathers, I got all the ostriches actin jealous

Track the trailers in chrome black Cateras

Two hundred inch Mickey Thompson's, flown back from Paris

Dat dats the illest, these body tracks make a rap killings

Others is trying to stack billions out in crack buildings

My destiny was to shine, ? to climb

Especially in time, with the recipe in mind

From the jump start, they ain't have to pump hard in this

I was a part of this, and marvelous stats, it wasn't hard to miss

And yo, I had to burn cats like arsonists and still continue

Whose on my menu? A record deal they couldn't lend you

I had to burn my glock and earn my spot

The time flew by, had to turn my clock

and start with a new resume, not really that bitch named Des'ree

She ain't really my dream there's a better way -- what?

Prospect'll have to collect dough

Dialin 905 to L-A-X with somethin I was tryin to drive

A life that's trife for what I wore in the fuckin ?

A thug in pain, I swear to my little cousin's grave

Every man in this world has a destiny

Can't no other rapper in this game get the best of me; unless you just

def dumb and blind you know the pedigree

Better get ready because I'm dead in the middle of Little Italy