you're fuckin' with, you gon' die, die Don't be surprised, Bone want your presidents wanna run it all Run all of it all of it, fuck that dog, fuck that
gauges bust up in ya playa hatas we be quick to pin ya You know, we know, you don't wanna roll 'Cause then we give it to you, we're gonna bring it to
y'all take off y'all jackets What's your name baby? word? okay Tell your friend right there this, this my man Busta [Verse: Busta Rhymes] Hah, I know
t know how deep it was, we all did shit together Eat up all your vittles, drink your brew and then step to The next cue, let's do it again y'all That
they bust like latex sex packets Emcees they don't rhyme and ball, they lyin' to y'all They dyin' to ball, the rhyme we do all the time We do all the
say "Damn, Tone" That's busted Bust it out, chant chant Common Sense you know is running things Let's show you we know you run it down You ain't seeing us though we
niggas cock-blockin' and plottin' Waitin' for my downfall, street got options Fuck y'all, y'all can ball, I'ma stay rockin' All emcee's paused when they
is to light to fight We move right, on fright night When Niggas write We bust pipe, condo's that suck thight We all right, you all hype and war's right
stuff There wasn't rap when I was pickin cotton, sayin massa Y'all y'all whippersnappers, with the caps on backwards Man, y'all fuck around with
up Check it out, the original, shit, we makin' it Takin' it, to the extremes, we breakin' it When we get, inside a zone then you feel that it's good All
Man Your tight, just light to fight We move right, on fright night When niggas right We bust pipe, condo's that suck tight We all right, you all hype
Y'all motherfuckers buckle y'all motherfuckin seatbelts If you need to get high there's a mask and shit in the overhead compartment I can't tell
about to fuck with the sun Mally G, I never kick a rhyme for free, Function rap skills, I come live like T.V, For all of y'all, I come across to be real
thoughts of bein' trapped up North But after I come off wit it y'all can push em out the door So, cock the four pound (Four pound) Lock the fort down (Fort down
caught real breezy, whack bitches y'all greedy And if ya don't write ya rhymes then easy 'Cause we don't believe it And me and Shawnna shut it down best believe it
Hey take ya car keys to ya class E Big body be for your CD on ya DVD For ya T.V in ya head beats In ya back seat Y'all think I'm mean Runnin' round
of niggaz with some tight ass raps It's like Father Dom, it's like Keith Murray Making millionaires but it ain't no hurry 'Cause we all in it for the
Yo, yo, pressure bust pipes, it's time to apply it now Pick out a quiet town and tie it down Make niggaz lock it down, y'all know where to buy it now