[Intro: Dom Pachino]
Yeah... the truth...
The Team... yo..
[Chorus 2X: Dom Pachino]
The truth's in the square, the troops in here
Check the movement, you can hear the truth in our dare
Don't even try to compare, new shit
Hotter than a rocket on flare, my troops
[Dom Pachino]
Aiyo the T's for the Truth, E for Equality
Allah is the Master, he who he seeks will see disaster
And wont get to see the day after
Paradise is something, we all after
But after the laughter, comes the tears
After the pastor reads the eulogy, and the words to 
share
Got killas in the front and the rear
Lock the whole square down, the truth's in the square
The troops in here, civilians looking spooked, they 
smell death in the air
Everyone's wearing black, everyone's staring at one 
another
Cell phones are ringing, no one's answering
There's no time to get to panicking
I lash out, with the arsenal and start the vanishing
[Chorus 2X]
[Crunch Lo]
Yo, we modern day slaves, and we fighting for a cause
If I can't have, what's mine, I'm taking yours
Strip you to your drawers, call my wolves
They won't hesitate to pull, nigga, watch how you move 
with me
It ain't gave a game, you'd rather just move with me or 
feel pain
Down with the Team, or off with your top
Yo, it's my world, my climb, nigga, it's my block
Pay rent, or get bent in half
I travel with my rod and my staff
You can feel the backdraft, Moses parted the red sea
David slayed Goliath, I smoke the green and I praised 
the most highest
I'm flyest, I'm wired from the bleach
Speak truth, Team Napalm, let them things off the roof
Boom, coof like Shelly, I'm trapped in the belly
Running in my Uptowns, way before Nelly
You can't tell me nothing, you just fronting and 
bluffing
The rap game is sour, and niggas is fronting
[Chorus 2X]
[Tommy Whispers]
Yo, we getting paper, validate breaks like skyscrapers
Nine lives and pussy chaser, my lazer beams
Ran from your man, how you gonna face a team
T.M.F., we make and take all the CREAM
To eighteen Broad, your regime is fraud
Pull up in the green Accord and squeeze the four
G's galore, only puff if the trees is raw
My Timbs got scuffed, homey, I'm bout to, lean your jaw
Two time felon, dusty burners, we clean 'em off
And go to work on the corners, like hookers in skirt
Put a hook in the verse, to make the crooks go berserk
Wildin' in the club, Staten Island in the club
You heard? Getting tucked, by some Stapleton thugs
With cuts on they mugs, and they love to bust slugs
Magnum P.I., ride, blasting B.I.
I'm a general, ya'll Joe's is some average G.I.'s