Team Napalm - Truth lyrics

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[Intro: Dom Pachino]Yeah... the truth...The Team... yo..[Chorus 2X: Dom Pachino]The truth's in the square, the troops in hereCheck the movement, you can hear the truth in our dareDon't even try to compare, new shitHotter than a rocket on flare, my troops[Dom Pachino]Aiyo the T's for the Truth, E for EqualityAllah is the Master, he who he seeks will see disasterAnd wont get to see the day afterParadise is something, we all afterBut after the laughter, comes the tearsAfter the pastor reads the eulogy, and the words to shareGot killas in the front and the rearLock the whole square down, the truth's in the squareThe troops in here, civilians looking spooked, they smell death in the airEveryone's wearing black, everyone's staring at one anotherCell phones are ringing, no one's answeringThere's no time to get to panickingI lash out, with the arsenal and start the vanishing[Chorus 2X][Crunch Lo]Yo, we modern day slaves, and we fighting for a causeIf I can't have, what's mine, I'm taking yoursStrip you to your drawers, call my wolvesThey won't hesitate to pull, nigga, watch how you move with meIt ain't gave a game, you'd rather just move with me or feel painDown with the Team, or off with your topYo, it's my world, my climb, nigga, it's my blockPay rent, or get bent in halfI travel with my rod and my staffYou can feel the backdraft, Moses parted the red seaDavid slayed Goliath, I smoke the green and I praised the most highestI'm flyest, I'm wired from the bleachSpeak truth, Team Napalm, let them things off the roofBoom, coof like Shelly, I'm trapped in the bellyRunning in my Uptowns, way before NellyYou can't tell me nothing, you just fronting and bluffingThe rap game is sour, and niggas is fronting[Chorus 2X][Tommy Whispers]Yo, we getting paper, validate breaks like skyscrapersNine lives and pussy chaser, my lazer beamsRan from your man, how you gonna face a teamT.M.F., we make and take all the CREAMTo eighteen Broad, your regime is fraudPull up in the green Accord and squeeze the fourG's galore, only puff if the trees is rawMy Timbs got scuffed, homey, I'm bout to, lean your jawTwo time felon, dusty burners, we clean 'em offAnd go to work on the corners, like hookers in skirtPut a hook in the verse, to make the crooks go berserkWildin' in the club, Staten Island in the clubYou heard? Getting tucked, by some Stapleton thugsWith cuts on they mugs, and they love to bust slugsMagnum P.I., ride, blasting B.I.I'm a general, ya'll Joe's is some average G.I.'s

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