We Don’t Care

Lyrics

[Cuban Link] Yeah, the foundation, L.G.P Latins Goin Platinum baby! Yeah yeah, yeah.. Uhh, year 2000 Terror Squadians (Terror Squad) We rock the party and (you won't like me when I'm angry) (I guarantee you, you won't like me when I'm angry) Yeah, yeah, yeah.. Terror Squadians Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (uhh, yeah) We rock the party and.. [Verse 1: Cuban Link] Yeah, I tear the club up, pull up in the Hummer With Pun my fuckin' brother, makin' motherfuckers run for cover The number runner, son, I'm nothin' but a hustler Burnin' rubber with drugs, stuffed up in the muffler Shut the fuck up, bust a slug through your jugular Plus suckers get fucked up with golf clubs Never front on us, TS baby, straight out the BX, baby So if they BS, we deeper than the US Navy You ain't crazy, laid up in the club like "What?" With all the ladies, showin' us nothin' but love Guzzlin' 80, proof to truth, straight to the gut In a Mercedes coupe, fucked up doin' a buck If Jakes chase me, I'm cuttin off trucks, pressin' my luck It's all gravy, puffin' the blunt, blazin' it up Maybe you hate me 'cause your baby mom's on my nuts She wanna rape me just because I'm sexy as fuck So, nigga, what? [Chorus: Big Pun and Cuban Link] [Pun] Tear the club up! [Link] Cause we don't care [Pun] E'rybody strip [Link] Yeah we don't care [Pun] Shoot the place up! [Link] Yeah we don't care (nuh-ah) We don't care (nuh-AH!) We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!) [Link] Yeah we don't care [Pun] T. Squaders [Link] Yes, yeah we don't care [Pun] Fuck you nigga! [Link] Nah we don't care (nuh-ah) We don't care (nuh-AH!) We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!) [Verse 2: Big Pun] Yo, I'm livin in madness, given the Spanish props I got to have it, loadin and bustin' up mad clips Gettin' up asses, grabbin' the girls on they asses Duck when the mac hits or be dead before your body falls Cause when my shotty roars, we ignore Giuliani laws My trigger got no heart, nigga, I'm blowin apart liver And holdin' the Glocks, call to the cops I'm blowin the spot, baby better head for the hills My niggas wild for the night My lead ready to peel this shit really real My clip really filled, your chick better chill My dick fit to kill, we fittin to ill No survivors, frozen Godivas or roses and flowers Flower the graves of those opposin the Squaders Thrown in the garbage, like funky pajamas Word to my junkie mama, I'ma keep it funky for homies up in Elmira You fuckin with scholars, street knowledge Carter kids stuck to the projects Go ahead keep checkin' that ball N' me n' Cuban gon' keep doublin our chips Keep talkin that thug shit like you bored In a year? when you gonna buck shit? Word to my son Chris And what? this count as more shit [Chorus: Big Pun and Cuban Link] [Pun] Tear the club up! [Link] Cause we don't care [Pun] E'rybody strip [Link] Yeah we don't care [Pun] Shoot the place up! [Link] Yeah we don't care (nuh-ah) We don't care (nuh-AH!) We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!) [Link] Yeah we don't care [Pun] T. Squaders [Link] Yes, yeah we don't care [Pun] Fuck you nigga! [Link] Nah we don't care (nuh-ah) We don't care (nuh-AH!) We don't care!! (NAHHHAHH!) [Cuban Link] Uhh.. Yeah.. Big Punisher.. Cuban Link.. Terror Squad.. Y'all wanna party? Gon' party our way.. Anything goes.. The code of the streets, WHAT WHAT? ..