- Votes:
 - See also:
 
'n Sync - The Crack Attack lyrics
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"
 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'n Sync - The Crack Attack - http://motolyrics.com/n-sync/the-crack-attack-lyrics.html
 "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)








