I be the worst like nick
To all them m.c. thugs
Like them four little kids
And the teacher gettin' plugged
I don't give a f** style
Tell me come jiggy
I rock kix and swishees
Coppin' moet wit' two counterfeit fifties
What?
Dirty girl rhyme spit mucous
Speech uncoothe
And raise the roof like lukas
12 years done rocked through all phases
Watch your peeps scream the b**h was the blazest
n***as run they mouth about my click
Not smart
I bust your bloodclot
Then drop you upon the sidewalk
(chi-chi-chi-blow!)
Hit ya a** wit a vicious blow
You know my style
Spliff the foul
Through your stereo
Spliff starr ignorant immigrant
I'm gettin' it
Money, fast car, fine broads, what
I'm hittin' it (that's right)
Raw sh** I'm spittin' it
At you and yours
Make you feel the pain n***a
Like the dick to your balls
Thug blood fluid
Pumpin' in the face of my music
Drop the street sh**
Watch the whole world rock to it
n***a squad!
Squad had em opin'
Had his b**h scopin'
Sittin' by the bar
Sippin' heinken's totin'
Pinky rings glowin
Triple beams to the club
My man is half thug
Giving me pound and holdin' grudge
Feelin' my sh**
So I can put a lock on your clik
Your style is past tense
Hold on, hold on
You just started rappin'
Ever since you heard the sh**
We f**in' wit it's platinum
Slow your growth
Stop the show
Go at you both
Hit you with more bars than soap
Sham is the name
Feelin' invain'
Fiendin' for dope
(buckshot)
Yeah, you know we got cha opin!
Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
Yo, stop frontin', you know we got cha opin kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
Stop frontin', you know we got cha opin kid
n***as made me mad
And now I wanna clap sh** (uh)
I reign supreme in this motherf**in' rap sh**
I lost my mind
I can't get it back
The way that I'm spittin', yo
I spit ya f**in' wig back
Don't front, my squad got you opin
Hit you with a buck fifty
Here's a token
Ramp is smokin'
I'm no joke and
I leave your face broken
This is survival of the fittest
Get wit us
All you critics and bullsh**ters
My nine goes bang
I'm talkin' street slang
I'm reppin' flipmode
Plus I'm doing my thang
On the side
We won't let it ride
n***a don't hide
Landlord innovator
Switch lanes no indicator
The general, cash generator
Master and savior
n***a stay ma**ive in nature
When tooth shatter ya die bone
In the savage cyclone of cops, sirens, and cases
Who read the bible for basics?
When I'm crooked eye with rivals
Horizontal in god's places
Suspicious of all
Now who dat?
Quick on the draw
Lick a paw
For loved ones blood runs cold in the winter wars
Check the criminal thoughts
Villains warp with the invisible force
Know the ledge
Stay focused like photo lens
And spread wings like cobra heads
Till I'm old and dead
Hot sh**, toxic
You know we blocks sh**
Traffic in the streets system
All in your jeep knocks sh**
Julio for no reason back the fifth
And he co*ks it
Rock sh**, we make n***as mad
And wanna pop sh**
Ma**ive and attractive
n***as is captive
Chemotherapy needed
Lyrics radioactive
When I hit hard
It get my dick hard
In my backyard
an*lyze the stars
On how to defeat all odds
In a new zone
I'm on a new phone
Make most of the wackest rapper n***as
Wanna find a new home
Like rasco jeans
My style flip two-tone
Pa** my blue chrome
Here's one of the best of busta rhymes own
My debut made you
Wonder who
sh** blazes so much
You wish you could play out
So you could blaze, too
Before I shout you
Or give reason to doubt you
I study sh** and re-an*lyze everything about you
My rhymes on the preserve
n***as know we deserve
Everything up in your stash and in the reserve
f** that!
Hook up all my lyrics on the echos and the re-verbs
Never f** with these herbs
My squad remains superb
(heh) walkin' through the streets
Undercovers follow us, stress
Muthaf**as on the regular to bust
Trust us
We don't get enough
n***a wha-what?
Dirty baggy jeans
Black napsack with something for ya gut
Wooly-type skully
Fully strapped, black bulletproof, and match
Quick,
Whip up a batch
Of bullets to blow up the map
sh**
Collapse, perhaps doing this in the raps
In the long time, ya trapped
Buck make em react
God verse attack
Let em know the moon is still black
And it's a fact
Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Yo stop frontin', ya know we got cha opin
Don't front, you know we got cha opin, yo
Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
Yo stop frontin', you know we got cha opin
Huh, word life
Mad n***as opin
Yeah, word life
Flipmode, motherf**in' buckshot
Mad n***as scopin'
Buck to ya brain!