Supa Engineer DURO - N.T. lyrics

[Verse 1: Q-Tip] For real though, who really got sick flow? On the edge, not the ledge hangin' out of the window Bird chest n***as with ya wind of this fear rap f** around you'll be minced meat inside of a meal sack Puny little punks better hit the gym But that doesn't mean nothin' to the heart within You cramped up, you and your team, I'm amped up And you a**es can't dim my beam My shine what the f** is on your mind? Little weakling rappers better hit the grind Other brothers ain't motivated, they can't do it Not only did I penetrate it, I ran through it My music comes on and we mosh at the dance Inside of your mind or you're inside of my pants Musical intentions that we have is vast You sick? Drink a NyQuil, well, I'm bed on your a** Oh well then here comes the gelatin Tip's on some sh** is what you yap on your cell to friends Now your party is completely blown Real name is Kamaal, I'm in "complete me" zone It's rap time, for you, that means nap time Reachin for my joint? What the f**, I'mma clap mine Singin songs of sixpence, you sit tensed Surprised your a** at the end like The Sixth Sense Heavy hitters knocking sh** out the park You didn't even really play, tell me why did you start Spittin' sharp blades laced with bleach You wanna play around, kid? I'm not a walk at the beach A stroll in the park or your f**in' playground Put on your headphones, tell me how grenades sound Put on your walk face and go underneath the town Q-Tip, Abstractm how I gets down Chorus: Busta Rhymes + [Q-Tip] All my b**hes, dance if you know that you damn sure Let your p**y drip on the dance floor if you wanna [Get down] f** that n***as will bust gats Better lit a make for their rush that cuz they wanna [Get down] Flip this piano sick sh** [Get down] Chill you can get off my dick and [Get down] While I'm on the hook get on your good foot And blow up the spot for all of you n***as cuz that's how we [Get down] [Verse 2: Q-Tip] Comin with the brand new quickly we pan to The young black man with intentions to ban you Seems that people need an aid today So many fade away, so many fiend to stay I really rhyme cuz I feel I should say things While the fraudulent act rap just so they cop rings Or maybe because when they was young They was fronted on and left alone to have their own fun Now they're all grown up to be a**holes I'm giving you the rope, will you tie it to la**os? You swing dangling from peach trees While I sip my Daiquiris in the Southwest breeze Writings so exciting the pen it keeps Drippin out jings that's converted to hymns and them People be hummin it from now to their next of kin My family is starving? You know they want me to win Me, forfeit? n***a, please get off it Send the check in my name to my office Mutombo in the lane, yo, I toss it Abstract comin through, witness the bomb sh**