Busta Rhymes - Genesis Lyrics
Intro
[Lord have Mercy]
As we approach the current time frame of 1997.With approximately
two and a half years before the year two thousand. Repeatedly it has
been reported that there will be a time soon approaching. That
major disaster will be striking, all levels of existence. It has also been
reported that this disastrous thing will be approaching in the form of
many, many as in squad, squad as in Flipmode squad.
It has also been reported that everyone out of the many will strike,
but this particular motherf*cker will strike with an unmeasurable
blast and f*ck up everything within his 360o radius.
Warning. Prepare yourselves. Store your food, stamp your paper,
because when this motherf*cker gets here, it's about to get real f*cked
for everyone and everything, everywhere!!!!
[Dolomite]
Well, Busta Rhymes. Come over here and let me talk to you son.
See know. Dolomite just got back from some shit that you about to
be it. Well are you prepared, I hope you are prepared nigga, cause
you know this is album number two. Yes more bitches than before.
There'll be more bitches, more and more and more. More thirsty
niggas. Time to get inside your shit. Time to throw your whole
chemistry off. Oh yes, there's gonna be a lot more money. Yes a lot
more money than before. So son don't you worry about none of that
shit. All you gotta do is just slap your dick in the mouth of these
bitches that don't wanna act right, and put a hot one in any
motherf*cker that wants to get in the way of this powerful shit right
here. Ok son, all right Busta enough of this shit talkin. Lets be on our
way. Cause when disaster strikes there's gonna be a whole lot of
motherf*ckers pourin in. All right baby, lets go.
[Spliff Star]
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo. Ladies and Gentlemen. Straight from the
motherf*ckin street corner. Goin out to all you motherf*ckers
across the globe. On the return trip. It be the niggas. The niggas that
live by the code of blood honor. My Flipmode niggas, ha. Spliff bring
you that shit to another extreme. Her to hit you motherf*ckers with
a strike of disaster. I bring on to you once again. The eight wonder
of the world. My nigga Busta Rhymes. And I be that nigga, that live
nigga Spliff I Spliff comin through right at you were ever the f*ck you
at. Flipmode is da Squad comin through right at you were ever the
f*ck you
at.
[Busta Rhymes]
A yo cut my shit off, get it off. A heh a heh, a heh heh.
Here we go again motherf*ckers. A heh, lets start this
shit.
Writer: DARYL LAMB, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Everybody Rise Again
[Busta Rhymes]
Let's get it goin
Yeah... yeah
I'm about to Picasso a new picture for you muf*ckas
I'm baaack... yeah
I just want every one of you mothaf*ckas that here to do one thing with me
C'mon
[Chorus]
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
C'mon, New York, Jersey, Philly, Bemore, D.C., Virginia, come on!
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
N.C., ATL, Chicago, Cleveland, Miami, LA, Houston
[Verse 1]
We bite the nigga straight outta jail, give me the money nigga
I'll smack you stupid, ain't nuttin funny nigga
I'll lay a nigga out and use they ass to shoot like a marble black floor
Bloody something like a hacksaw
And then we stash a couple gats in the bag because we at war
Pistol whip some of these niggas, leavin em wit cracked jaws
Battlin like we in costalon, niggas see you supposed to know
We extremely serious niggas
You see it's so marvelous how we just strap more, pack more
No chichi niggas allowed, just throw em out the back door
This lone menace got it wicked for the protenants
You niggas soft like limp dick and lead progenes
Blessin the younger thug wit shit to look forward to
The god is back, so niggas is quick and to fast forward you
Yo, this shit be straight energy
You've been f*ckin wit Flip Mode, nigga, while I'm refreshin your memory
C'mon!
[Chorus]
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
N.O., Seattle, Detroit, St Louis, Dalas, South Carolina, niggas c'mon!
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Boston, Buffalo, Delaware, Okland, Little Rock, c'mon!
[Verse 2]
You see it's hectic, respect it
Blow up your deck until my cassette is ejected
How I will beat you just like your father, don't even bother
However nigga, whatever nigga, who wanna follow?
It gets coarse like the calice of a struggling black foot under privilege
I'm quick to stick you for your whole bank book
Bitches follow my bounce and follow my flow
Follow me now, follow me later, follow my glow
Ayyo, follow instructions and follow the pro
And to follow my magic, bitches wanna follow my doe
Keepin ya bouncing, got all my people singin the hook
Got bitches buggin like how niggas be wild in the brook
Look, we street niggas, while you live by the book
Funny nigga, ain't no need to shoot yourself in the foot
F*ck wit bitches that's gettin doe and they know how to cook
In every struggle, I always did whatever it took!
So all my niggas
[Chorus]
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
Maryland, Michigan, Kansas, Kentucky, Alabama, Indiana, Utah, c'mon!
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
Phoenix, Memphis, Nashville, Mississippi, Rhode Island, Colorado, Wyoming, f*ck it
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
Idaho, Illinois, Minnesota, Missouri, Oklahoma, Overgod, South Dakota, come on!
Everybody rise, everybody rise, everybody riiiiiiiiise
Almafon boroughs, Brooklyn, Queens, Yorksman, Hatinstaton alley niggas, come on!
Ha, yeah, everybody rise, come on
Everybody rise again, rise wit me muf*ckas
As I welcome you all to the genesis
A whole new foundation, A whole new idea
A whole new experience
A whole... entire... new... movement
Busta Rhymes, Flip Mode Squad, I salute y'all
Yeah, yeah, come on, everybody riiiiiiiiiiiiiiise
Yeah, yeah, enough of the intro shit, let's get straight to it
Writer: J. SMITH, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
As I Come Back
Here we come yo, here we go (Its goin on now) [x3]
Busta Rhymes nigga, here we go
Flipmode nigga, here we go
Neptunes nigga, here we go
Once again my niggas, here we go
Arrrrah!
[Verse 1]
Come on, guess whos back in town,
Bitches get on the dance floor and pull ya shit on doownnah!
From miles around,
I been f*ckin bitches up and flip a brand new soundraah!
The most hot shit all around
So hot it make a bitch wanna give me a poundraah!
Huh, fall on the ground, (come on)
Roll up a backwood and stay steamin the brrownraah!
The way we comin to town,
See we controllin the fort now, nigga give me the crrownraah!
Talk that shit to me girl, arrah, wha you say, arrah!
Strip for me, I got the camcorder shorty make her flip for mearrah!
And how ya ass get split for mearrah!
See how we makin you black
And from the party and we keep the D.J bringin' it back
Im sayin
[Hook x2]
Uh, uh, uh along with the track man
Uh pardon me, uh, as I come back
Uh, uh, uh along with the track man
Uh pardon me, uh, as I come back, nigga
[Verse 2]
What we gon do in two thousand two,
Eventhough we havin fun in two thousand oneraah!
Stay strapped, grippin my gun
Up in the truck, packed with bitches stackin my onerrah!
And while we wlyin' in fun,
All of my bitches show me ya ass and rep where you fromraah!
Come on, arrah, cuttin' it down
Such a way we make police come and shuttin it downrraah!
I hope you see how we takin it there
And while we at it motherf*ckers throw ya hands in the airraah!
Valet parkin the car
While we up in the club buyin every drink in the barraah!
We givin you this shit, come on
We showin niggas how we always flip the script come onrraah!
Back off, get out of my face,
And everytime we come through nigga, give me my space
Im sayin
[Hook x2]
[Verse 3]
For my dogs we be keepin it raw
But bitches be gasin a nigga, please give me some moreraah!
They way you be shakin ya shit to the floorrah!; Damn!...arrah!!
I'ma give it to you mami for sure
And if you couldn't take it what is you f*ckin me forrah!
Ya niggas know how to act
And when we arrive niggas know we come to pushin shit back
Im sayin
[Hook x2]
Writer: KAMAL IBN JOHN FAREED, BRYAN HIGGINS, CHAD HUGO, JAMES JACKSON, ALI SHAHEED MUHAMMED, TREVOR SMITH, MALIK IZAAK TAYLOR, PHARRELL WILLIAMS, PHARRELL L WILLIAMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Shut Em Down 2002
[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah.. back by popular demand, it's about to get Godly
Yeah.. hold it now! AOWWW!
C'mon, c'mon (c'mon).. yeah
Huh.. c'mon, c'mon (c'mon).. yeah
Huh!
Bear witness on the way we stay cuttin 'em down
In two-thousand-two, shuttin 'em down
Have you sippin on it 'til you start suckin it down
I hope you know that we ain't F*CKIN around
Niggaz you betta BELIEVE when you see me the shit be double trouble
I overLOAD and take this SHIT to another level
I shut it down, sho' nuff, pack ya bags
Let me work, make it hurt, cause I'm next wreck
Lay flat nigga hit the deck, or face big DISrespect
In addition the SHIT we wreck
Firework flow, spit and make a BIG effect
Bang it in the truck until ya whole SHIT eject, c'mon
Stop nigga, close ya shop
SCUD missile launched fire burn quick, every SHIT we drop
From the GROUND with another sound yes we put it down
and always BOOM and pound, so we shut 'em down
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes + (Pete Rock)]
I shut 'em down (shut 'em down, shut shut shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (sh-sh, sh-sh, shut shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (shut 'em down, shut shut shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (shut 'em, sh-shut, shut shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (shut 'em down, shut-sh-shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (sh-sh, sh-sh, shut shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (shut 'em down, shut shut shut 'em down)
I shut 'em down (shut 'em down, shut shut 'em down)
[Busta Rhymes]
Hah!
One two three four five six seven eight nine
Comin THROUGH, betta tuck in ya shine
Once ya lookin for the HEAT, if ya seek it will find
I had these devils watchin me sayin these sneakers is mine!
Now hold up - we drop the bomb first then get under ya mom's skirt
to get her frenzied like a motherf*ckin rock concert
While you're busy and tryin to FIGURE what the God's worth
I'll malfunction your plans 'til the motherf*ckin sound work
Now I'ma CUSS when I BUST ya ass
And leave 'em stiff when I hit 'em like a MUSTARD gas
Steam fire when I puff, then I flick the ash
You wack and I had enough, put your shit in the trash
Now you know we got the shit in the smash
Wild until you slip and you crash, y'know we keep the SHIT in the stash
From the GROUND when we come around, yes we put it down
and always BOOM AND POUND, when we shut 'em down
[Chorus - w/ minor variations]
[Intro to "Genesis"]
As we rockin you all to the future
Ahhh, we come to give you that
Operatin like we be official
Yeah, we come to multiply
And we're plannin the scheme for the long win
Yeah, our shit be always right
Every move you'll see how it's related..
Writer: EARL SIMMONS
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Genesis
[Busta Rhymes]
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
[Hook]
As we welcome you after the future
Oh! we come to give you that
Operating like we be official
Yeah! we come to mutiply
And were planning a scheme for the long win
Yeah!our shit be always right
Every move you'll see how it's related
[Busta]
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
[Hook]
[Busta]
Genesis
Genesis
[Verse 1]
While we continuosly stay sculpturing bombs
Love, unconditional greetings with opening arms
And for my worthy niggas i'm a die tyrin for ya'll
With the blessing of an angel tear cryin' for ya'll
Back to the foundation, takin you, wander back where it all started
With a whole new beginning and a brand new hunger
Starving to where my skin was suffocating my ribs
Now we got bitches interior decorating my crib
Touch the love I got like you holdin my heart in my hand
And watch my manifest that shit was all a part of the plan
The fashion that I choose to deal with this shit
Sometimes it's so hard to describe the passion that I feel for this shit
How many struggles I survived just to eat this meal
Never thought ya'll maybe thinkin' that it could be this real
Flipmode up in this bitch now let me make you aware
Too late for turning back my nigga cause we takin' it there
[Hook]
[Busta Rhymes]
Genesis
Genesis
Genesis
And leave!
[Verse 2]
And leave a mark until it's deep in the floor
Ya'll niggas f*cked up never should've let let me get my feet in the door
And then I step through, f*ck wiping my feet at the door
I be the deacon i'm beatin' niggas and speaking of raw
Strictly raw shit is what niggas be seeking me for
testing my strenght, that's what the devil's trying to weaken me for
C'mon, yes! and ya'll off to the next step for sure
Rep and make you wanna accept more
Niggas analyze the jewel that I reveal in a rhyme
I'm like something that has evolved about a million times
Peep the display with all the new features
The way we really doin it, these mu-f*ckas probably wouldn't believe it
Flipmode Squad by all means I pledge of allegiance
With the great feeling of people like the comin' of Jesus
While a lot of other niggas don't be telling you nothing
That be the same bullshit that's always pushin' my buttons
Godly is how we rep this undeniable force
You like a weak preacher, sware, you smack dead on a cross
Smack ya fingers for tryin' to put your hands in the sauce
Sometimes i think that it would be best if you run
And do yourself a favor, cause you got your whole life ahead of you son!
A whole new thang starting for me
Smell so much ass in a spot, the beat got the world fartin' for me
When I spit you know I always love to gun a shit hard
While you loving, hating niggas trying to tarnish the God
I know some dudes that would love to bring the hatred to ya'll
While I continue to bless you with shit that's is sacred to ya'll
Even if I had to bend you in place
I always put it down and rep my niggas from the most genuine place
From my street corner niggaz to my live niggas everywhere
Too late for turning back, we takin' it there
[Hook]
[Busta: x35]
Genesis
Writer: J YANCEY, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Betta Stay Up In Your House
[Busta Rhymes]
Yea, I know it's kinda cold outside
Bring your nasty ass inside
([C. Mayfield] "Eddie you should know better..")
Play yourself a dark corner motherf*cker, yea
([C. Mayfield]"Brother, you know you're wrong..")
Come on, can't stop, won't stop, rockin' for you niggas
'Cause I rep the street and Johnnie Cochran for you niggas
And I, got a state gun cockin' for you niggas
(twenty-one) legal (gun) shots
[Rah Digga]
Poppin' for you niggas
And I, blow tones, more force than cyclones
Shit is on everytime I catch a Ron Jones
Thug bitch, rock boots and hoops with rhinestones
(Got the) key (to the) city and (run the crime zone)
[Busta Rhymes]
Now come on, take something, shake something, break something
Stop, close your shop, you niggas ain't sayin' nothin'
Niggas be frontin' and knowin' they ain't really weighin' nothin'
Betta (stop) 'fore we (pop) and really (get to sprayin' something)
[Busta] Flood it up
[Digga] Whip it up
[Busta] Smoke it up
[Digga] Blooded up,
Niggas straight tryin' to brake, I tell 'em shut it up,
I spit the ill for real, ain't nothin' buttered up,
(Flipmode) doin' it (everybody) love it up
[Chorus]
East coast, what up? West coast, what up?
Midwest, what up? Dirty South, what up?
All my chickenheads, put it in your mouth,
It's Flipmode, better stay up in your house
All my thugs, what up? Thug bitches, what up?
Street niggas, what up? Stack riches, no doubt
We got the block locked take another route,
It's Flipmode, better stay up in your house
My niggas HOOK
[Rah Digga]
Dirtiest, wordiest, Jersey it's wetter than a mile
I stalk like pedophiles, no body get's saved when I bless the child
Gettin' (eight) like (snapper) you too fessed to vow
[Busta] Hold up
[Digga] Run on
[Busta] Get up
[Digga] Come on
[Busta Rhymes]
Ahhooo!
And put every single nigga where I'm from on
(Bitches) all in the (spot) go head (and get your) fun on
(Niggas keepin' it) movin' (go head) and get your (thug on)
[Rah Digga]
(What on) earth possesed y'all to try a lil' (drunk) lil' (high)
Big heads in the sky make (niggas) straight (cry)
Without Mo' and Dry, take it down (homeboy) got bigger fish to fry
F*ck that (Other nigga) Rush that (sucker nigga)
[Busta Rhymes]
Niggas love the way we sound up on another Digga
(Hot D) but I got another younger brother bigger
(Digga) pass me the Henny so I can take another swigger
[Chorus]
[Rah Digga]
Switch it up like Ak-Nel
Why you hit a dry spell,
Cats like you get no reply on the Skytel
(Hate y'all) Raps like Eminem hate Britney
(Bonafide) MC (Who) f*ckin' with me?
[Busta Rhymes]
Top niggas better give props nigga
('Fore you get dropped) f*ck around and get your shit popped nigga,
Flip-flop niggas, you could (really get your shit mopped)
Or left to lay up in a pit stop nigga
[Digga] Spillin' it
[Busta] Feelin' it
[Digga] Killin' it
[Busta] Come on!
[Rah Digga]
The hardest MC don't want flex no more
(Make it hot) everytime I rock, rest assured
Shit'll have that (who could rock) the raw best award, nigga
[Busta] Look it up
[Digga] Cook it up
[Busta] Shook it up
[Digga] Book it up
[Busta Rhymes]
When we (rock) you shouldn't watch (promoters) nook it up
(Raise the level a little) you know (my niggas) took it up
(In and outta big) figgas while me and (Digga) cook it up
[Chorus]
Writer: CURTIS MAYFIELD, RASHIA TASHAN FISHER, JEREMY A. GRAHAM, BUSTA RHYMES
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, JELLYBEAN MUSIC GROUP
We Got What You Want
[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah I though all y'all was goin'
Uh, Yeah, yeah, yeah
Were gonna take y'all on a little ride and shit
You mean now, now, now, yeah
We gonna sail in one of them big fat ocean liners on the street
Swim through this mutha f*cka
Busta-Bus now, now, now
[Busta Rhymes]
Hop scotch I found a new bounce
Just rock back and fourth while my beat knock (Aurgh!)
Stop chips and cock glocks wit' clips
Go sailing in hot ships and park big whips (oh!)
Getting' them whips and bounce outta town
Take trips ride slow through them hoods and park at the main strip
Baby girl gimme yo hand cock fast (c'mon!)
With a number in your hand, hot ass (hold up!)
Shorty actin' just like she had a hit (on me!)
F*ckin' while shorty's busy shakin' her shit (on me!)
Man stop, just let 'em flop watch girlfriend let alone cock block
Hot shit make a bitch wanna whine just like a reggae tune
Make y'all niggaz wanna act and bust the AK boom!
Everyday create a may lay today is pay day mutha f*cka you better make way!
[Hook]
It's your night go get your money
Get that dough bounce if ya want
And light that blunt smoke if you got to
Shake yo shit bounce if you have to
Flimode squad back in the spot
With all yo shit bounce in the truck
Yes yes y'all bounce we go what ya want
All my niggaz, all my niggaz
All my bitches!
C'mon!
[Busta Rhymes]
We stay spittin' on
See what we sittin on
Shittin' you see how my 20" be fittin' on nigga
A 100 dollar bill shorty number was written on
Hittin' shorty on the sink wit' the lights in the kitchen on
C'mon! move quiet with all the DL chicks
Who carry on Lincoln head up on my CL 6
Hit y'all wit' the shit split y'all
Chicks all on my whip hoping ya ass fit y'all
We suppose to reach most shit bang
Watch how niggaz bounce in East Coast (Heaighh!)
Choke y'all provoke y'all
Killin' street everytime we distribute the coke all
Check it, see now a days we caught cribs
And caught big fat loss
F*ck big fat bitches that make cliques back off
The way we prove it to y'all
Is just bang niggaz every time we do it to y'all
[Hook]
[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah
Straight black out shit fo show
Making you back yo mack out quick Aiyo (huh)
Yeah we floss and drop pricy things
Talk slick and money and rock icy things
She tried to get that score
By throwing the pussy begging me to hit that raw (uh oh)
We puts it on and watch bitches getting' a getsy
Flimode up in this mutha f*cka just for the record
[Hook]
Writer: J. SMITH, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Truck Volume
[BUSTA:]
Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Live nigga bully foot brassed up on rap shit now.
Check it out now
[VERSE 1:]
Yeah, yeah, yeah re-lax that shit you talk
Before I sick my bitch on you that'll bounce with your dick on a fork
I'll bring a bigger storm to calm your clouds
I own a couple things; I even own a farm with cows
I own the moment when my niggas run deep through crowds
Like how a pregnant woman breast milk leek through her blouse
A lot of niggas like to wish on a star
don't give a f*ck who you are
I know some niggas that'll piss on your car
Now see, every time we step in a place
I give y'all niggas shit that put a foul look on your face
And rob ice like I was never more able
Don't drink coffee 'cos my diamond be cutting the glass on the table
Hey, I be the lost found tribe of "Jabas"
Bust niggas then I plant another bomb in your ass
And then I put my students all in a class
To clear my ruler ship
And make y'all niggas f*cked up doin' the math
[HOOK:]
One time now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck volume (C'MON)
Truck volume (C'MON)
[CHORUS:]
I know ya-wanna-get up-on it
Let me-show ya- how we do
Every-time we-drop that-shit you
Know we-put it-down for you (HEY, HEY)
[VERSE 2:]
How many times you gon' crush down somethin'
You need to change your name up, to Bus-A-Bus down somethin'
You f*ckin' with the highest my nigga
Tryin' to f*ck with the giants, might as well call me Goliath my nigga
C'mon, drop hot shit on the spot; sop it up with a mop
Before the hungry come and shop on your block
I know some niggas that'd love to blood suck you all
A thing of the past, because them niggas stuck you all
One shot bustin' the same bullet, struck you all
And when they bounce you hear voices screamin' "F*CK YOU ALL"
Gathered up about a thousand young ?box? who brawl
As decoys, in case they needed to duck you all
That's why you better move tight with your click
Niggas be thirsty and quick
Just to be off into the night with your shit
C'MON, we keep it street to give a damn who you are
Make niggas wile, and bitches spread, and put they hands on the car
Now let me frisk 'em, and shake they asses down to the floor
One dude wonderin', "What them niggas is poundin' me for?
What them niggas grillin'? What them niggas houndin' me for?"
Before the poundin', "What them niggas was surroundin' me for?"
Well let me tell you what the f*ck we was surroundin' you for
We came to get you once but now I come to get you for more
And while they get and got, niggas drinkin' ten-dollar-henne a shot
Getting' drunk and wilin' out in the spot
[HOOK:]
What the f*ck now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Hot shit now (C'MON)
Street shit now (C'MON)
Truck volume (C'MON)
[CHORUS x2]
Writer: TREVOR SMITH, ANDRE YOUNG, MICHAEL ELIZONDO, SCOTT STORCH
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management
Pass The Courvoisier
[P.Diddy w/ Busta In Background]
Oh yea, I like this, Ladies & Gentlemen
The time you all been waitin for
(lets do it, do it, do it)
This is a Bad Boy, Flipmode collaboration
(Come on)
[P. Diddy]
Shake ya ass (come on), watch yourself (o.k)
I'm the man (lets go) and no one else
raah, raah
[Busta Rhymes]
Like a dungeon dragon
Still king of the flow, while my mink be draggin'
I said I'm sick with the flow
Stick a dick in ya hoe
Make them shut down the club, we threw a brick in da door
[P. Diddy]
Shit, I'm the number man, hot like summerjam
[Busta (Puff)]
Slick like Fonsareli, and rich like cunningham
I stretch them like rubber bands (I make them say)
Oh shit, the bitch got up and left with another man
(Saaay what!?, wha is you talkin bout?)
Theres nothin to talk about (see), you just a walk about
I light a long L, and just blowin the smoke about
[P. Diddy]
See, we serious wit it, they aint nothin to talk about
[Busta]
And while I scope it out, I love the way you bounce
Shake ya shit tuck in ya ass in poke it out, come on
[Chorus: Busta & P. Diddy]
[Busta] Give me the Henny, you can give me the Cris
You can pass me the Remi, but the pass the Courvoisier
[Diddy] Give me the ass, you could give me the dough
You can give me 'dro, but pass the Courvoisier
[Busta] Give me some money, you can give me some cars
But you can give me the bitch make sure you pass the Courvoisier
[Diddy] Give me some shit, you can give me the cribs
You can give me whaever just pass the Courvoisier
[P. Diddy]
We got these hoes lovin it
They gettin familiar man, they screamin out my government (Sean John)
I like them in twins like doublement (Don Juan)
[Busta]
We be bangin all types of chicks from here to (Hong Kong)
The best dressed bitches actin all cute to my shit
And get the wlyin out they actin like a ? to my shit
? go a distance from yours, we holdin Jewish money now
Down to the credit card different from yours
[Diddy]
Its the law for me to get in ya drawers
I run the city of cars, they call me Mr. Diddy, the boss
You know me, the only G to willy a porshe
[Busta]
We get dough in all land the size of philly of course
Can imagine the price that my jewlery really would cost
We go to clubs with a briefcase and a half milli to floss (damn)
F*ck around and you can really get tossed
Ken Griffey flow, call me Alaska 'cause I be the king of the frost
What you can do is
[Chorus]
[Hook: Busta]
Five thousand boomin watts
I got a thousand karats all over my watch
Travel lighty, flow back easy
Back with the bus-a-bus and the P.D
We stay livin at the top of the charts
The shit we be spittin, be state of the art
We rockin ya block shit, wlyin like rock shit
Strapped with the gun and the street corner hot shit
[Diddy]
Now we sittin' in the drop top pretty
Knock, knock who is he?
[Busta]
Bus-a-bus, I put it down and this I get busy
(Excuse me bus-a-bus)
Full control of the city, if you aint know
[Diddy]
By the way, the name is Puff
It aint my fault ya dane corrupt
We went form Henny, to Remi to Moe to Belve to..
[Busta]
The game is us; we gettin money motherf*cker
And the game we trust
Everytime we put it down, reppin the name is a must
Flipmode!
[Chorus x2]
[Puff Talking:]
yea, yea, yea just pass the Courvoisier
yea, pass me that louie that motherf*ckin' that that iron groove
Nineteen vintage motherf*ckin' medievil
Ow, bitch. Yea, just pass the courvoisier
That that shit make, that dark shit just me wanna f*ck
Straight up, I just need to know
Dis nigga Diddy dick hard as a..[mumbles]
Writer: BERNARD EDWARDS, PHARRELL WILLIAMS, DENNY RANDELL, SANDY LINZER, NILE RODGERS, JAMAL WOOLARD, DOMINICK LAMB, TREVOR SMITH, BRYAN HIGGINS, JAMES JACKSON, KAMAAL IBN JONATHAN DAVIS FAREED, ALI SHAHEED MUHAMMAD, MALIK IZAAK TAYLOR, CHAD HUGO, MICHAEL L. TYLER, JERMAINE DENNY
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
Break Ya Neck
[Busta Rhymes]
Yea.. Check it out, see
The only thing you need to do right here is,
Is nod your f*ckin head
Yeah, yeah
Break ya f*ckin neck bitches
Yeah, yeah
Here we go now..
Where we goin now?
Where we goin now?
Give it away, give it away, give it away now
Give it away, give it away, give it away now
Just give it away nigga
Yeah, here we go now
[Verse 1]
Tell me wat'chu really wanna do (Come here ma)
Talk to a nigga, talk with me
You look like you could really give it to a nigga,
from the way you talk and the way ya try to walk for me
The way you really try to put it on a dawg
Threw ya hips like ya never did before for me
The way you break yo' back, and I break yo' neck,
and the way you try to put it on the floor for me
(Come on!) Come on (Come on!) Oh yeah
Tell me where my niggas is at (Ok!!)
Lemme address y'all niggas one time,
while I lock that down, and I hit'cha wit that (YOU GONE!)
That bomb shit, y'all niggas gone all day
Be the nigga in the drop,
Y'all niggas know every time I come through,
this motherf*cker, where we always takin the ride
(So let me do this bitch)
Y'all niggas know when we come, we be makin it flop,
the way we makin it hot'll make a nigga wanna stop... [pause]
Get money, then cash that check for me
All my niggas just bust yo' tech for me
Everybody from every hood bang yo' head,
'til you break your motherf*ckin head for me!
[Chorus]
Just let me give you real street shit,
to rap in yo' shit with
Recline yo' seat rewind this heat
Keep bouncin up and down these streets
So nod yo' head and
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Bang yo' head until you start to
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck nigga!
Break yo' neck!
[Verse 2]
Come along now (Let's put it down nigga!)
When I bounce back and you know I done caught my breath,
y'all niggas all know how we do,
when the way we bang niggas in the head, and we do it to death
(We fold 'em back whodi!) The fire boy, you know we bakin a ounce
I know you love the way we be givin you the music, makin you bounce
Now f*ck it up just a little for my niggas,
everytime we come through niggas know that we did it for y'all (Uh-huh)
And the way we do it for the people,
niggas know we always give it to y'all
I said bounce (Come on!)
In the day time or the night, when ya creepin along,
Well just bang this shit up in the truck,
while you break yo' neck, now motherf*cker try to figure my flow
See the way we come right through (When we come right through!)
We be always blowin the spot, again and again,
and make a nigga really wanna STOP... [pause]
Better tell yo' crew, yo' peeps,
all my niggas better put they troops on
And gather up your soldiers nigga,
you know you better keep yo' boots on
All my niggas in the place (Aiyyo!)
Wave your hands high now, and the way we put it down,
make a nigga wonder what he really gonna try now
What'cha really wanna do?
Just place your bet, and put'cha money where ya mouth is (Ah-hoo)
All my niggas in the street just break yo' neck and keep on boun-cin!
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Here we go, and you know everytime Busta-Bus be holdin the fort,
my nigga watch how we shuttin it down,
The way we put it on, comin through like a steamroller,
me and Dre nigga ain't no f*ckin around
My nigga (WHAT!) Yeah whattup,
Me and my team got a link cuz you know we stay choppin it up
And when get up in the club,
or how my niggas at the bar how we lockin it up
And we get a little (High!) And we get a little (Drunk!)
And we get a little (Crunk! Come on!)
Lemme give y'all niggas some shit,
that'll make you wanna bang this out yo' trunk (Come on!)
Get money, then cash that check for me
All my niggas just bust yo' tech for me
Everybody from every hood, bang yo' head,
'til you break yo' motherf*ckin neck for me!
[Chorus]
Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, ANTHONY KIEDIS, MICHAEL BALZARY, JOHN FRUSCIANTE, CHAD SMITH, BUSTA RHYMES, MICHAEL ELIZONDO, SCOTT STORCH
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, BMG Rights Management
Bounce (Let Me See Ya Throw It)
Bounce, Bounce, Bounce niggas
Come on bounce, come on bounce, bounce
Come on bounce bitches, come on bounce
Come on bounce, come on bounce
Everybody bounce niggas, come on bounce
What come on, come on
I'm saying bounce bitches, come on bounce now
Yes, yes y'all, you know we talking it all
See how we bringing the street corner to Cargenie Hall
It be so funny to see how badly they want it
The fall, f*cking up something me and my niggas is ready to brawl (ha!)
Now I'm ready to call my niggas get off of the wall
I run up in the club like how these bitches will run in the mall
While we popping the collar holla you need to folla the scholar (hey yo!)
Hustle for dollas and rock it until manana
My niggas, know how we do it
I do it for the love and the riches, my niggas hitting them switches
I got the rent from my bitches
(You f*ck around, youse a gonner!) Put this shit back in order
And keep in mind that I might be f*cking somebody's daughter
My niggas that be keeping it gully and hang on the corner
Bitches get the stripping and shaking they shit how they want to
Let me see it mama, and start showing ya shit
I love the way you make it bounce and get the throw on ya shit
Bounce, represent where you from (Bounce)
Let me see ya throw it (bounce), Let me see ya throw it (bounce)
To all my ladies (bounce), I love the way you make it (bounce)
Let me see ya throw it (bounce), Let me see ya throw it (bounce)
East coast niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
West coast niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
My dirty south niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
My midwest niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
Now let me warn ya (bounce)
The way we coming you we bringing the storm y'all
Pack the garden up watching all of my niggas form y'all
The way we always do it, you saying we wrong y'all (ah-roo)
You still be loving the way we put it on y'all
Oh baby! I know you know I really mean well
Mizzy giving me head all up inside of my V-12
Female bitches throwing they pussy at retail
All up in ya face see every inch of it get detailed (ah-hah!)
Now we rolling wit bigger money we folding (ah-hah!)
Cracking ? in the safe in money we holding (ah-hah!)
Hold on, pause, these bitches be dropping they drawers
Laying flat on they stomache and popping it all on the floor
Coming to get us, we tossing ya niggas like lettuce (uh-auh)
Leaving you beat up we threaten the moment you met us
Bitches open for bonin' and f*cking they starving the let us
Sweating and dripping on niggas and starting to wet us (so!)
Check out the way that we repping we coming to get it (ah-roo!)
Get the f*ck out the club if you ain't rollin wit it
I be giving you bitches some shit you be wontin to goggle
Hitting these bitches that focus on wantin' to model
Whether you whipping up in the truck or you revin' the trottle
Or you wlying up in the club or you throwing the bottle
Just let me see it mama! and start showin ya shit
I love the way you make it bounce and get the throw on ya shit
Bounce, represent where you from (Bounce)
Let me see ya throw it (bounce), Let me see ya throw it (bounce)
To all my ladies (bounce), I love the way you make it (bounce)
Let me see ya throw it (bounce), Let me see ya throw it (bounce)
East coast niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
West coast niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
My dirty south niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
My midwest niggas! (bounce) Now let me see ya throw it (bounce)
Bounce
Writer: MELVIN BRADFORD, MICHAEL ELIZONDO, BUSTA RHYMES
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Holla
Yeah, yea
This shit sound like..
one two o'clock in the mornin with the full moon out
Niggaz in they trucks creepin
With a fresh box of ecstasy pills for these bitches
[Verse One]
Yeah, team select, please collect, G's connect
Thieves nigga direct the trees to the SmokeFest
Wanna take a toke? YES! The newest zone I'm in
I'm like Smithsonian nigga, f*ck it call me Napoleon
Wave the torch, cut the head off the Leviathan
The terminology I'm rhymin in cause a frenzy up in Ireland
Hit ya, I'm gon get ya
And drop the bomb scripture at your barmitzvah
Yo, map shit out, blast through the speakers
With a wifebeater on, Bushe below, a new pair of sneakers
Street niggaz hang on the sidewalk, that's where I learned my fly talk
Pimp-strut, and how to skywalk
Moderatin how we establish the whole conglomerate
The way we honor it, you'll never conquer it
See how we wreck, has a global effect, on even Polish people
Young and restless down to the old and feeble
Peep them, Czechoslovakian to Yugoslavian niggaz
Be all into my bounce so don't be botherin niggaz
So NOW you should feel the whole cathedralish bounce
Put one in your stomach leave you in a fetalish crouch, nigga
My vernacular is spectacular
Strategic plans'll have you lookin wacker than a postal office massacre
Is that so? Make moves just like a fatso
Bounce in a minivan Astro after my gat BLOW!
[Chorus]
Aiyyo, get up, get up, get dough (get dough nigga)
Roll up, light up, and smoke that 'dro (smoke 'dro now)
Bitch shake yo' hips and bounce real slow
Niggaz rep yo' hood, I'm with that --
All my nig-gaz (all my niggaz) if you with me (if you with me)
Yeah I see you (yeah) HOL-LA
(Throw yo' guns in the motherf*ckin air, c'mon!)
All my bitch-es, if you're with me (yeah all my bitches where you at now)
Yeah I see you (you know I see y'all) HOL-LA
[Verse Two]
Yeah, my whole entire mindstate deeper
than astronomy and mathematics like Galileo
Smash you niggaz like mashed potato
Back when niggaz used to rock Ballys and Clarks
I used to watch, little niggaz shouldn't hustle nickel crack in the park
Barrels spray the brighter flame in the dark
Blood spill stain on the street, that's how niggaz be leavin they mark
F*ckin with diplomats who love Bailey's
Monopolize and quickly get other money f*ckin with Israelis
So solid how we be symbolic
to a handful of niggaz that be all schemin on the same wallet
Them type niggaz that be conspirin and kidnappin
Shit happens! Gun clap for you in a GIFT wrappin
You should follow how the style switch up
Like a group of religious niggaz schemin to kill they arch-bishop
You big pussy nigga actin all hard
Call me atheist, because I don't believe in you God
It's like a grand feast celebratin the bounce of the century
I tote the recipe quick for any type of discrepancy
Busta Rhymes the great renaissance artist and architect
Like how a Felipe (?) portrait is so hard to get
We got the obscure shit for the street
Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat
Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street
Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat
[Chorus w/ slightly different (ad libs)]
[Busta Rhymes]
Holla at me now, c'mon!
Yeah.. Busta Rhymes, cookin up a little brown stew chicken
Dr. Dre niggaz, yea
Writer: ANDRE YOUNG, BUSTA RHYMES, MICHAEL ELIZONDO, CAMARA KAMBON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Wife In Law
[Jaheim]
Yeah yeah yeah yeah,
Yeah yeah yeah yeah...
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah...
Jah and Busta-Bus (Heh)
Jaheim and Busta baby (Heh)
Jah and Busta baby...
[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah.. wife in law, my bitch for the triflin whore
Type of bitch to make a nigga get the right things for
Bitch sexy, and beautiful, and gangsta, and golden
Love to f*ck a nigga till the pussy dry and swollen
My lil' bitch had a figure like a wine glass
Slim bitch stackin like a muhf*cker with a fine ass
Word to mother; bitch nasty like me
Love to f*ck a nigga in places where people could see
The bitch send a chill like cold freezin a nigga
The way she holdin and bitin and suckin and squeezin a nigga
Down and dirty bitch never dick teasin a nigga
Got her own paper and focused on pleasin a nigga
She ain't out for gettin a nigga or f*ckin my life
She only wanna f*ck a nigga while he f*ckin his wife
There was nuttin she couldn't achieve
In the mornin bitch was across the street waitin for wifey to leave
Called me on the cell while the wife was runnin a bath
She can't wait for me to f*ck her, till I cum in her ass
Just a long-time chick I used to f*ck from the past
She love to out-f*ck a nigga, see how long I could last
It be nice the way she always let me dig in her rib
The bitch f*ck a nigga like she wanna move in my crib
Bitch I always knew ya ass was a star
In the daytime, whippin the droptop, givin me head in my car
[Chorus - Jaheim]
When a woman needs love, just like you do
Oh, don't kid yourself, into thinkin that you don't
Cuz she will fool around, just like you do
Ohh, don't kid yourself, into thinkin that she won't
[Busta Rhymes]
C'mere bitch and place ya pussy right where it belong
And put me in the mood to f*ck just like a Jodeci song
I love the little freaky shit you be approachin me on
Dick all in ya mouth, you know what type of shit I be on
The way the pussy lock feel like we about to be stuck
All outside busy, givin me the balcony f*ck
Hold on get up off of me quick
Bitch grab the X.O. and suck the Hennessey up off of my dick
So quick, so fast, bitch'll come out her skirt
F*ck a nigga till it hurt, while the wifey at work
The bitch'll even call her girl so I can f*ck with her friend
And fall asleep to wake up and start f*ckin again
Straigh nasty little bitch no horsin around
The bitch even want me to f*ck her when she walkin around
Hold up, it's kinda ill how we be workin the caper
She ain't only good for pussy, she be givin me paper
Wife-in-law, my bitch be always keepin it raw
Always slidin out before the wifey walk in the door
They way she f*ck me on straight for the night
Wifey still ain't make it home, I wonder if she workin late for tonight
Wifey actin funny style but I ain't f*ckin with that
She ain't call the crib so I wonder where wifey was at
Hmmm.. shit kinda had me buggin before
But now I laugh because wifey had a husband-in-law
[Chorus x2]
Heh... Heh...
Writer: RAY ERSKINE JR. PARKER, JOSEPH L KIRKLAND
Copyright: Lyrics © RAY PARKER JR DBA RAYDIOLA MUSIC
Ass On Your Shoulders
[People talking]
[Hook: Kokane]
Likes to go, eventual
Lead you home, come inside
Why you got your ass on your shoulders
Now, tryin' to spit at a bitch
I lead inside
Why you got your ass on your shoulders
[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah bitch put on an outfit, dazzle ya hair
Come in the club fit to take you home and frazzle the hair
Bitch understand I must have got a handle in here
Why you open up ya ass and let me travel in there
Create a scandal in there
Don't talk, let me pull it out to add another angle in there
Let me ride the back of yo ass like a camel in there
Pussy hot like she lit a f*ckin' candle in there
Remember I was tryin' to get my drink in the slot
And you was same girl actin' all stinkin' the spot
It was funny how I thought I wasted breath on the broad
A friend couldn't find her cause shorty left with the God
And then I took her back to the crib, you can figure it out
I'm diggin' it out with the dick in her mouth
Get cha' homegirl to come start lickin' ya out
And swingin' about until I start kickin' em' out
Because ya...
[Hook: Kokane]
[Busta Rhymes]
I'm sayin' she f*ck a nigga like she want the God to lay in a hearse
Makin' me curse, hope you relate to my verse
And what be makin' it worse
That they be the same bitches frontin' like they wasn't with it at first
Actin' too good for niggas with your ass on your shoulders
But now you'll be f*ckin' a nigga till he fall in a coma
I remember how you acted in the front of ya friends
As I remember now you give me head in front of my Benz
So now I'm smackin' it up, while you backin' it up
With a car load of bitches now I'm packin' it up
Now ya whole crew comin' and we whackin' em' up
Let me beat the pussy till I start blackin' it up
Got bitches diggin' in my back scratchin' it up
Got em' screamin' shatterin' glass crackin' it up
Get cha' homegirl to come start lickin' ya out
Ass swingin' about till I start kickin' em' out
Because ya...
[Hook: Kokane]
[Busta Rhymes]
Sayin' in ya crib gettin' ya shit right sprayin' yourself
With perfume that mean the dude start playin' yourself
Ya too fly to let ya friends know ya lovin' a nigga
So instead ya front like you ain't really f*ckin' a nigga
But still I really love to sit on my dough
And there's nothin' I love when ya keep ya shit on the low
Get cha' homegirl to come start lickin' ya out
Ass swingin' about till I start kickin' em' out
Because ya...
Writer: TREVOR SMITH, KEVIN GILLIAM, J. LONG
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Make It Hurt
We gon' change things
Yea, Genesis niggaz
We gotta introduce y'all to the motherf*ckin new millenium bounce
Yea, two-thousand and one hot shit hot shit c'mon
All my niggaz in the place, all my bitches in the place
C'mon, c'mon, let's get to it
Let's get to it, let's get to it
All my niggaz and my bitches let's get to it
New milleni-nigga bounce, new millenium bounce
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon
[Verse One]
Aiyyo it's colder than a muh'f*cka, who just let the hawk in?
Nigga guess who just walked in?
Lynch, most (?) makes them other niggaz sit upon the bench broke
Then I step up in a trenchcoat nigga
Got no time to be f*ckin with them wonderama niggaz
Let me loosen up your bra-strap mama nigga
LISTEN UP! Look how we be rippin up and got the party pickin up
and got you niggaz spittin up SHIT
No pain, nigga never no gain, nigga no strain
O.D. into my cocaine music
Spit that venom; pretty thick bitches walk by
If you let 'em pussy printin through they denim
Take her for a ride 'round the block, let her enjoy the whip
Drop her off, let her walk the strip
Ain't it funny how nature work?
Make bitches wanna bounce on a nigga 'til they make it hurt, c'mon
[Chorus]
Shake yo' shit until you make it hurt
Throw yo' pussy 'til you make it hurt
Pop that shit until you make it hurt
Bounce 'til you really wanna make it hurt
Now bang yo' head until you make it hurt
C'mon, stomp yo' feet until we make it hurt
Pound that shit until we make it hurt
Until we make it hurt, now let's make it hurt
[Verse Two]
Are we ever gonna stop nigga? HECK NO!
Shit now let me rip the muh'f*cka from the get-go, nigga
Let go 'fore you make a nigga wanna let the tec blow
Bitches dancin like a stepshow, nigga
Violate nigga, you gets no love, ghetto
Only give a nigga show love ditto
Your clique too little, f*ck givin niggaz a riddle
F*ck around I turn your wife into a widow
Nitro nigga, make you wanna wild on the floor
like a bunch of little psycho niggaz
Presto, shit we got a expo of bitches in here
Whylin like a bunch of lesbo bitches
The best show of bitches, so electro bitches, c'mon
Get on your mark, get ready set go bitches
Then we go and add a little propane to it
Then we send another whole flame through it
Clear everything in my path, before I split you in half
You wack nigga, better get you a staff
The freak bitches try to hit me with math
Brushin off wack niggaz while them same bitches givin me ass, yo
Now let me give you more hot shit, just for the record
and make bitches wanna get ass-naked, c'mon
Party 'til you wanna lash out
Better yet, y'all niggaz party 'til you motherf*ckin pass out!
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
C'mon! Throw yo' hands up high y'all
Light yo' L, get high y'all
Shit you can't deny y'all
Don't lie y'all, don't try y'all
All my niggaz inside y'all
C'mon, let's start that shit y'all
C'mon, and you know we won't quit
Then bang niggaz with hit after hit y'all, c'mon
In the meantime nigga just pass me the Henny, c'mon
Little Cris' and a bottle of the Remi
Write a bit and STILL sortin it out
Flipmode up in this muh'f*cka nigga, whatchu talkin about?
Hold up - a lot of people ain't compatible nigga
They be buggin on how a nigga spend capital nigga
Ain't it funny how nature work?
Hot shit'll make 'em bounce 'til she really wanna make it hurt, c'mon
[Chorus x2]
Writer: J YANCEY, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
What It Is
Yeah
Flipmode
Neptunes nigga
What you want nigga, yeah
What you want bitches
Keep it goin, c'mon
Keep it goin, c'mon
Keep it goin, c'mon
C'mon, c'mon
[Verse 1]
Who be the father to this
Bounce right here niggas be followin this
Modelin bitches be frontin and be swallowin this
Carry on and yellin, screamin, be hollerin this
Flipmode co-signed to be the sponsor for this
What? To conquer this you need to march on for this
What? Ha, bitches just shake it and wiggle
And start to bake and just giggle
And then get naked a little and shit
Sweat drippin off they face and they nipple and shit
Niggas wildin til they be all tired and crippled and shit
Yeah you buggin on how we be doin it to ya
Til you hate our niggas and shit just like bullets was travelin through ya
Now, from right to left with a capital F
We gon' keep this shit hot to death and we stoppin your breath
Drinkin and buggin and f*ckin with them hoes again
But it's nothing cuz y'all niggas know we 'bout to blow again
[HOOK:]
Kelis and Busta
Busta, what it is right now
Yeah
Busta, what it is right now
Eh-heh, eh-heh
Busta, what it is right now
Yeah, eh-heh, eh-heh
Busta, what it is right now
What you want? Eh-heh, eh-heh
Busta, what it is right now
Yeah, eh-heh, eh-heh, eh-heh
Busta, what it is right now
Yeah, what-chu...
Busta, what it is right now
What you want now
Busta, what it is right now
Flipmode, c'mon, c'mon
[Verse 2]
Let me show you what it is right now
Let me... step up and handle my biz right now
Niggas don't even know what it is right now
Got 'em mad as if I was bonin they wiz right now
So let me dig right now all in your ass way she bouncin got my...
Bubbly startin to fizz right now
Ayo, f*ck it shit is feeling kinda big right now
Got 'em ready to split a couple of wigs doin tricks wit her ass
Shoulda seen what shorty did right now
Got me stuck on just takin her back to my crib right now
C'mon, the way shorty throwin that ass all over the place
Why shorty dizzy tryin to throw it all up in my face
Oooh... so what you got right now
Cuz we comin to blow the whole entire spot right now
Nigga we hot right now, all you other niggas move your shit over
Because we comin take your slot right now
[HOOK]
[Kelis]
This be the beat to rock for the street
More hot shit we givin you more heat
Feelin that bounce bangin the concrete
Bangin in the club and bangin it in your jeep
Flipmode Squad 2001
Wave your hands and rep where you from
We keepin it street cuz that's how we live
It's what it is baby, it's what it is baby
[Verse 3]
C'mon
See what it is is that we smokin got you open my nigga
Reppin til the very last word is spoken my nigga
Think we jokin we be makin niggas soakin they clothes
While niggas is runnin and wildin busy scopin these hoes
Bitches is runnin and wildin scopin niggas wit dough
While we keepin niggas open like we smokin the 'dro
Heh, see what it is is that we create a ruckus
Cuz that's what we love to do muh'f*ckas, c'mon
[HOOK]
Flipmode nigga, c'mon
Violator muh'f*cka, c'mon
We got Kelis muh'f*cka, c'mon
Neptunes muh'f*cka, c'mon, yeah
Bus-A-Bus muh'f*cka, c'mon , yeah
Everybody in the spot, c'mon, yeah
What it is right now, c'mon
Bus'll tell ya what it is right now, c'mon
Bus'll tell ya what it is right now, c'mon
2001 hot shit, c'mon
Hot shit, hot shit, hot shit, c'mon
Writer: PHARRELL WILLIAMS, CHAD HUGO, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Theres Only One
[Busta Rhymes]
Roll wit a nigga, put on some roller skates [laughs]
yeah yeah yeah, yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Come on!
Hot shit! More more more more more more!
We gon continue to give it to you muhf*ckas like this
Put ya f*ckin roller skates on!
Yeah, hennessy niggas
Yeah, more weed niggas
I know it feel good come on, talk to ya beat (Huh)
Thug niggas, yo we here to straight recruit y'all
New millini niggas yo we here to straight salute y'all
(Shoot y'all) Wack niggas we here to mute y'all
And drop shit to make all you niggas just get the boot y'all, baby
Wiggle ya shit one time (come on)
F*ck you and your whole entire click combined (come on)
...Whatever the cost now, floss now
Show you niggas who be the boss now
All across the board wild they be bouncin my obstacle course now
Sparkle with a gloss pushin a force now
Now I get my wine and dine on, slide on
A dick of a nigga who bust in you to get his shine on
See some real live chicks sippin them mistics
They buggin on how they let a nigga up in 'em this quick
Don't get it twisted or we'll bring the most reliable (what!)
We bringin that shit that be so undeniable
[Chorus: Mary]
Y'all wanna know who we with
Busta Rhymes and there's only one
You know my man is always rockin shit
We keep it street cause that's where we're from
You comin out to do your thing
Underground heat to the club we bring
And you know that we got this
And you know that we got this
[Busta]
(Hugh) Brand new, all the way down the line
From the new bounce the new money down to the newest shine
Wit the new blue nine though I had to bust it a few times
Watch these funny niggas and analyze all the true signs
In due time we will accumulate, illuminate
My click will f*ck up the money you allowin your crew to make
Yeah, and while we step up in the hot spot
And f*ck with these bitches until somebody start to bust shots
Niggas duck for a second make sure they ain't the ones got
To start the party against me (Ho) and yell blood clot!
Everything be goin on from chicks blowin kisses
Straight wildin out while these niggas surround these freak bitches
Once somebody else started bustin they heat vicious
I started holdin my toast, defendin all my street riches
Up in the club champagne up in the ice bucket
Now these niggas is wildin and throwin they drinks (F*ck it!)
[Chorus]
[Mary]
Now don't get mad, cause what you had
Too bad it didn't last
And now we're back on this Busta track
And now the games on smash
[Busta]
Yeah, all my live niggas get yours
Floss heavy, all my bitches bounce on the floor
Check it, squads deep with niggas everybody on
Make the livest motherf*ckers wanna bounce to my song
Check it, my niggas organize, analyze the teamwork
And how a bad shorty rockin that Rah Digga T-shirt
And keep it goin while you tag along, swing along
And see my niggas that be reppin while you sing along
[Chorus x2]
[Busta and Mary ad lib]
Writer: RODNEY SAULSBERRY, MARY J. BLIGE, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
You Aint Fuckin Wit Me
Yea, hey yo Uncle Pat, turn up the beat just a lil' more for me bruh
Yea,
This sound like Frankenstein's baby, yea
Busta Rhymes! You know we live and in color (color)
Shit butter hot, but just a little mo' gutter (gutter)
Smash shit regularly, word to my mother
Show love for the bitches and put it down for my brudda (brudda)
Hot butter funk make it rain, close the shutter, violate
Catch it from one of my bitches, box cutter (cutter)
Articulate! Feels so great
That I can bless my niggas with shit they appreciate ('ciate)
No jive y'all niggas can take a nosedive
Shit so live bitches want to give me a high five (five)
F*ck it, it is a must we hold grands
Get with the program and f*ck bitches who love to hold (hands)
Foul shit, way out of order
F*ck shit up leave bitches hot and sweaty drippin buckets of water (water)
Disorderly conduct, will erupt
When the live shit come on niggas do what they want to (wanna)
Alright bitches, now show yo' asses
The shit we dropping be sure to get y'all moving (get the f*ck up)
We keep it popping, feel how gangsta the loop is (we keep it bopping)
(we keep it gangsta motherf*cker)
And it ain't no stopping the way that we goin' do this
Now what you want me to say? Say you ain't f*cking with me
(what the f*ck, c'mon)
Huh, you see I got so much new hot shit stored
Got you giving me an award, floored a couple on the come up
Stretched a few, put 'em flat on they back
And laid 'em stiffer than a board, the way I make my niggas applaud
My price tag, just to show up the shit
Might be something you can't afford
Make you say the Lord is my shepherd, how we astonish
Move forward on novice niggas like Cedric Ceballos with a hot song
Now niggas know we rock on, cock-strong
All y'all niggas is straight popcorn
Talk the trash, coming forth get past lie duke
Pass shorty with the big horse ass (ASS)
Now ain't no stopping how we coming full blast
Mix the fire with gas, that's how we put it on smash (smash)
No lie, never deny, so hot we cook the shit well done
Just like a deep fish fry, snap crackle and pop
What we drop and how we keep shit coming
How we maneuver so fly (fly), so high is where we gon' take it
Controlling the land, controlling the sea
Now we control the whole sky, perhaps make niggas collapse
Make bitches shake they shit to the floor
And feel the soul up in my raps and your face is the gutter we slap
Make you crash all in your whip when you drive
I hope your seatbelt's strapped, alright niggas! Now throw yo' hands up
The shit we dropping be sure to get y'all moving (get the f*ck up)
We keep it popping, feel how gangsta the loop is (we keep it bopping)
(we keep it gangsta motherf*cker)
And it ain't no stoppin the way that we gon' do this
Now what you want me to say? Say you ain't f*cking with me
(what the f*ck, c'mon)
Yeah, this sound like, the music to Frankenberry or some shit
The f*cking, groovy ghoulies and friends or something
Writer: RODNEY SAULSBERRY, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Match The Name With The Voice
[Busta Rhymes Talking]
Greatness, yeah, yeah
Aiiyo, turn the beat up a little bit louder
Truck Volume
[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
We bout to play a lil' game, match the name with the voice
So when you pick your favorite emcee you makin' the right choice
SO WHO ARE YOU?
[Baby Sham]
Baby Sham, I'm known for the crud
First night pops off with a couple of slugs
[Busta Rhymes]
AND HOW YOU DOIN'?
[Baby Shaman]
You see what I'm workin' wit, it's beyond rap
Stick to the fact, that chapped lips get convexed
Palm that, look where the arm's at, nigga need to launch that
Now tell me what the problem be, is that I'm scorching dem
To flood these streets, hot not partially, cock back the toast
Put your heart for free, so what it feels like to hear me crushin' a beat
[Busta Rhymes]
SO WHO ARE YOU?
[Rah Digga]
The illest broad Digga, reppin' Brick City
If I'm lying may the Lord come strike my left tittie
[Busta Rhymes]
AND HOW YOU DOIN'?
[Rah Digga]
Undisputed metaphor rap queen, always cookin' up some shit
Like mom's a crack fiend, so what's the word
Strike a nerve when I'm speakin'
Any emcee whether black or white, or Puertorriquen
I'm the big dog, you just a cat stuck in a tree
Not one of y'all cocksuckers f*ckin' wit me
[Hook (Busta Rhymes)]
SO WHO ARE WE? (Flipmode)
Got you gaspin' for air, hot shit muthaf*ckas
Throw your hands in the air
WATCH HOW WE DO IT
How we rep and yo we solemnly swear
To put it down until it's over and our time is up here
SO WHO ARE YOU?
[Rampage]
Rampage, new tenant, pack big still
F*ck what ya heard, I'm ready to kill
[Busta Rhymes]
AND HOW YOU DOIN'?
[Rampage]
Day criminal, street thug material
Flipmode Imperial, top breakin' officer
F*ck around we warnin' ya, 21 gun salute
6 official conrads, ain't afraid to shoot
Niggas see us, we got them shakin' in they boots
Flipmode, the streets, bigger than Bayroots
[Busta Rhymes]
SO WHO ARE YOU?
[Spliff Starr]
Yeah, Spliff Starr, c*nt-crusher, gun-busta
Hard-to-toucha, one bad muthaf*cka
[Busta Rhymes]
AND HOW YOU DOIN'?
[Spliff Starr]
Gangsta bitch, deadly like cancerous
I bring it where your parents live, show you what your status is
Steam-boil your cabbages, I can't take y'all nigaz faggotness
You about to die, show him where his casket is
You wanted beans, I had your hood under siege
Guns get squeezed, and bullets hit your knees
[Busta Rhymes]
SO WHO ARE YOU?
Bus-A-Bus now, somethin' fo' sho'
Keep 'em whilin' till somebody's left a leak on the flo'
AND HOW YOU DOIN'?
We've been awaitin' the God, to make an undernovel entry
Controllin' everything in the yard
Rugged like General Custard it seems
How we crush grapefruit, niggaz, and make a mustard out of your team
You know we hotter than the 4th of July
So sit back and watch the fireworks show light up my name the sky
[Hook]
Writer: FISHER, JONES, LEWIS, MCNAIR, ME, SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Bad Dreams
[Busta Rhymes]
Yo me and my niggas and my clique be getting mad cream
Balling the club, now I'm drunk having a bad dream
This mothaf*cker tried to greet me with wealth
I never knew that I would see that day that I would meet the devil himself
This nigga was eagerly waiting to prove it
Astonishingly, already dancing to his own burial music
Well anyway, he plottin' to do it to me
In a certain kind of way, and started off directly popping shit to me
While he spoke a couple of fires would spark
While he sat in the shadow talking his shit we watch the sky getting dark (he said)
[Devil]
(?) Where it hurts
I'll leave you in a (?) straight up leaking in the back of a church
Let a ghosting crib and haunt you like a ghost in your home
Leaving you old and crippet like them ruins in Rome
Watch your body shrivel up and turn your asses to smoke
F*ck your flesh don't get yo blood sucked, the blood of ya foes
I be that nigga that'll torture your spouse
And leave a thousand body bags like truth.com in front of your house
[Busta]
Got me bugging on a whole notha level
Tell me how the f*ck a nigga really end up having beef with the devil
Shit bomb the whole effect the nigga had on my dreaming
Body reacting mentally, going to war with the demon
Semi-chaotic like the typical storm
So embellished in the dream a nigga felt it in the physical form
The dream got my nose runny and shit
Eyes watery, shorty watching my body twitch funny and shit
Giving shorty sleeping with me the creeps
She bugging off how a nigga just sweating and breathing so hard in his sleep
Determined to conquer this nigga so let it begin
Absolutely focused on killing the demon within
So now we fight in the name of my brethren
And every blow connect during the fight you can hear the thunder roll into heaven,
Ain't hell a deep breath of fresh air
The devil's presence blows a cold draft leaving a scent of death in the air
While my mind was reassembling now
Simultaneous wifey watching a nigga body trembling now
Couldn't conquer me so now the devil wanted me dead
Stabbing a nigga with the same bone he ripped from his head
Yo its funny how the devils'll test us
But if fully select, niggas blessed with something miraculously precious
Til I'm dead I'm always battling through
You can't believe you cut my main vein that all my blood be traveling through
Somebody gotta die, settle the score
Because it's me or this nigga, I'm fighting to the death, I'm ready for WAR
[devil laughing fades]
Writer: DARYL LAMB, TREVOR SMITH
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management
Pass The Courvoisier Part II
[Busta Rhymes]
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna
[Busta Rhymes]
Act a fool you better watch out (uh-huh)
Hot shit be bringin the cops out (c'mon)
Street niggaz is ringin them shots out
[P. Diddy]
Short circuit and blacken the blocks out
Now open up the garage and pull the drops out
Rockin the fur coat bringin the blue fox out
[Busta Rhymes]
Diamonds light up the block, runnin the blue rocks out (uh)
Whylin till all of my crew knocks out (c'mon)
[P. Diddy]
Get yo' ass up on the floor
[Busta Rhymes]
Huh, throw ya hands if you wan't some more (ho!!!)
[P. Diddy]
Baby, wiggle your crotch out, huh
And peep the way we be blowin them spots out
[Busta Rhymes]
C'mon, look how we got 'em ready to act out
Girl, I'm ready to give it twistin your back out (let's go)
[P. Diddy]
Drink yack till a nigga fallin out
[Busta Rhymes]
Flat on his back now watch a nigga crawlin out, talk to me
[Pharell]
I said Busta (whassup son?)
You leave them girl rollin... and it look like (c'mon)
They asses is swollen (and they ass gettin big now)
But if your man babysittin (uh-huh) then what you gon' say?
(What we gon' tell 'em man?)
We gon' tell that nigga
(Pass the Courvoisier)
We gon' tell that brotha
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Waah oooooooooooo oh!!
[P. Diddy]
Girl, you need to shake it off
[Busta Rhymes]
Too much hair on your cho-cha
[P. Diddy]
Then shave it off
[Busta Rhymes]
C'mon, jump smack yo' ass and break it off
[P. Diddy]
And if it's too hot for y'all?
[Busta Rhymes]
You need to take it off (that's right)
[P. Diddy]
In case you ain't knowin niggaz we on a roll now
[Busta Rhymes]
Diddy, like we done stumbled on a pot of gold now, c'mon
Food spillin all out (yeah) of the bowl now, huh!
Money thick, get harder to fold now, c'mon
[P. Diddy]
Ladies tell me if you're feelin (alright)
[Busta Rhymes]
And are you sure that you up for doin it (all night)
[P. Diddy]
I like this
[Busta Rhymes]
Listen, before you ass bet, nigga
We wreck shit and we ain't even blacked yet (c'mon)
[P. Diddy]
Niggaz all around and police rapidly shut down the block
[Busta Rhymes]
And the club ain't even packed yet, c'mon
Nuff drinkin at the bar hold it down whylin out
'til the club is closed down, talk to me
[Pharell]
I said Busta (whassup son?)
You leave them girl rollin... and it look like (c'mon)
They asses is swollen (and they ass gettin big now)
But if your man babysittin (uh-huh) then what you gon' say
(What we gon' tell 'em man?)
We gon' tell that nigga
(Pass the Courvoisier)
We gon' tell that brotha
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Waah oooooooooooo oh!!
[Busta Rhymes]
(JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna
[Busta Rhymes]
Rob a bank my nigga, cash rule
[P. Diddy]
Bust it, let's get this money and act like a damn fool
[Busta Rhymes]
F*ck it, act stupid and jump in the damn pool, huh!
[P. Diddy]
Bone bitches and me and they man's cool
[Busta Rhymes]
C'mon, shit I'm sayin, just put your bank up, nigga
Put me and Diddy together you bankrupt, c'mon
[P. Diddy]
Fly niggaz we full of finesse y'all, yeah!
[Busta Rhymes]
Me and my niggaz is fittin to bless y'all - c'mon
Don't talk about it, be about it, SHUT UP!!!
Live niggaz come and be around it, WHATTUP!!
C'MON; rep to the fullest now, huh!
These niggaz ain't knowin how we gon' put it down - c'mon
Cock, aim and shoot
[P. Diddy]
to spray it down
[Busta Rhymes]
Steamrollin you niggaz
[P. Diddy]
and lay it down
[Busta Rhymes]
Niggaz frontin with they thug image
[P. Diddy]
but we pay them no mind
[Busta Rhymes]
Now drink until the bottle finished, talk to me
[Pharell]
I said Busta (whassup son?)
You leave them girl rollin... and it look like (c'monn)
They asses is swollen (and they ass gettin big now)
But if your man babysittin (uh-huh) then what you gon' say
(What we gon' tell 'em man?)
We gon' tell that nigga
(Pass the Courvoisier)
We gon' tell that brotha
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Everybody sing it now
(Pass the Courvoisier)
Waah oooooooooooo oh!!
[Busta Rhymes]
(JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Don't this shit make a nigga wanna (JUMP JUMP!!!!)
Writer: Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Jermaine Denny, Bernard Edwards, Bryan Higgins, Charles Edward Hugo, James Jackson, Ali Shaheed Jones Muhammad, Dominick Lamb, Sandy Linzer, Denny Randell, Nile Gregory Rodgers, Trevor Smith, Malik Izaak Taylor, Michael L. Tyler, Pharrell L. Williams, Jamal Woolard
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.