The Crack Attack Lyrics - Don Cartagena - Fat Joe

Yea, uhh 

"I bet you thought I left you hangin" 

Yea yea, yeah 

"I bet you thought I left you hangin" 

Terror Squad again. long overdue baby 

"I-I-I bet you thought I left you hangin" 

Don Cartagena, bring you the best in hardcore hip-hop 

"J-J-Joe Crack returns bangin" 

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Yea, uhh 

Yo it's the Don of rap, sippin Cognac, hit you on the back 

with the Mac (CLAK CLAK) slip you into cardiac 

It's the art of rap at the illest form 

from a killer's point of view, who thrives off the area jealous ones 

You could tell it's on from my introduction 

Hibernate the junction with killin somethin when you was barely dumpin 

You ain't even nuttin to worry about 

I flurried your mouth, with about thirty right in front of your house 

Then I'm hurryin out in the expedition, professional hit men 

The vestibule shit from the credible disses 

Federals is listenin to my conversations, tapin all the songs I'm makin 

Shakin down every ounce of my congregation 

John Blazin, raisin the stakes, changin your fate 

Tied up in my basement with a gauge in your face 

Make no mistake, that's how I do my thing 

Blow out a lot of brains, I'm sayin, it's not a game 

Photos 

"Take these words home and think it through 

Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep 

(repeat 4X) 

Uhh, uhh, yea 

Joe Crack takin a L and make Tone roll over in his grave, never that 

T.S. got his dreams and discourage the brave, remember that 

I been bustin guns since the infamous days of leather hats 

Varsity sweaters with big letters black 

Pushin the illest whips down fifty-fifth 

where killers riff, without havin to split Phillies and sniff 

And Willies who shift jobs from Chili willin to leave you stiff 

Fulfillin my biggest wish, in this illegal shit 

Quarter Maris stay slugger with karats, never offered marriage 

When my corpse is carried my moms'll get all my cabbage 

Terror Squad is savage, draped in the finest of fabrics 

Floss like it's a habit, eight shot up in my Louis baggage 

You knew we knew we had you, lay half your crew in gravel 

Caught you slippin with your Boo and started shootin at you 

Out of captivity, left Relativity 

Now we on the Big-ger Beat, Terror Squad trilogy, what? 

"Take these words home and think it through 

Or the next rhyme I write might be about you" -- Mobb Deep 

(repeat 8X)