Terror - Masta Ace Incorporated

Hit me over the head, nigga!

Yeah, you’re god damn right

We got the shit to make your dome split

You fucking around over here?

You gonna feel the terror

(What's your name, kid?)

Well, lets just say

It’s the A to the S — E

Don’t try to test me

And I just be

Brownsville to the bone like that

Stone avenue, where ya at?

Well, the INC

I got lord to the D

I got Paula to the P

Plus me, ey, Leschea

Keep the tangarae

And pour me a glass of that monkey made of brass

Fast

That’s how it is and how it goes

I don’t need silk clothes

To pull all the holes

In your head

Bum the gunshots and the raps

I bust mad caps

When the wack take naps

Perhaps

I need to wake 'em up

Then I take 'em up

Then I shake 'em up

Hey, then I break 'em up

Like glass

Im up in that ass like Charmin

Harmin'

MC’s that feel like swarmin

Like fleas

But I got these

Pesticide rhymes

You best to try crimes

Cuz' if you try to fuck with this

Then you just made an error

And you gonna feel the terror

Coming through in the black cherry automobile

That’s how I feel

Everybody claimin' real and holdin steel

But I be on some rollin shit, Holdin' shit

Down for my borough, Brooklyn base thorough

That’s why, I do or die

Like Bed-Stuy

Oh my, that shit that get you high

It’s something of a phenomenon

Like white lines

Me and Mines run thick like Heinz

Catch up, you can’t catch up

So play the rear, over there

It’s B-bass in your ear

And your eyes

So realize and recognize

A nigga dies

When we terrorize

I don’t think you really wanna play

Cuz' we be doin' niggas every day

Just like that

J-J-Just like that

J-J-Just like that

I cram a knife in your back

The INC don’t care about you and your crew

Or them niggas that you run with

Them the niggas you’ll get done with

Check it

We be comin' with that bigger and better and more shit

We got that raw shit

It’s the I

It’s the N

It’s the C

No mystery, You dont want none of me

You must not know the time

If you wanna try and say that

Whatchu' got there, INC?

Motherfucking right, yo play that, hate that

(Feels so good, that my mind won’t let go)

Black boy, black boy

Turn that shit down

Fuck that

Now feel the terror in my sound