[Busta Rhymes] Doctor, yeah I think we got some shit for 'em (Flipmode!) Yeah I'ma rub these sticks together Check it, and start a bonfire [Chorus: Busta Rhymes] And if you don't see it y'all niggas can't fuck with our Flipmode movement, bounce in your truck to us Y'all get stupid, don't try to fuck with us Because you will get carried away, yeah you'll get carried away [Busta Rhymes] Now I'm subtle, once I pick up my metal Put my foot on the pedal, riding through every ghetto Analyze the shit I'm seeing when I sip Amaretto A lot of bitches on the strip, strutting in they stilettos Then they wave and say hello, when my Lambo' is yellow Everything they got a jingle when they walk like ah-Jello See the niggas on the corner and I never forget it And I never regret because I see how you get it Now because of you niggas, I'm a hustler nigga 'Gnac guzzler nigga, rip your jugular nigga In the night I become the type to love when it's dark Cause when I pull up and park, is when I'm making my mark See the fact's that I'm trying to strive and capitalize in Start to maximize and b-build a enterprise And while I'm stocking this bread, keep ah-stocking the lead And leave a permanent dot, on the top of your head [Chorus] [Nas] I'll Will, Flip-mode! I'm the enigma, there is none harder, smarter Martyr, Godfather, my interest, your departure Pardon Dre this beat is a monster, catchy Like sleeping under open windows that's drafty Then waking up my throat scratchy, that's how I spit it nasty They short, a few inches North of a dwarf My flow's Murcielago, ghosting them narcos Toast in the ways of the original Pablos Still a pyramid architect, mix liquors like a chemist Killer lyricist, poetical tyrant Sneaker store terrorist, Mt. Everest I climbed it Heat is drawn, no creeping on me whenever I'm bent My mind spray, my nine spray And freak styles like 3000 Andre To keep piling, keep pushing them drops Nas, runnin with hot Busta Bust, we don't stop [Chorus] [Busta Rhymes] Now I'm hot, and we running the block Watch me run in your spot, fiends coming in flocks Add a little cut to the coke when I'm cooking the pot Drugs, bitch! I got what you want come and get what I got Now I almost forgot, I come to close up your shop I love to fold up a knot, love toting the glock Helps me feel safer when niggas try to scheme on my plot Try to steal paper from me you gotta deal with a lot See I will leave you to rot, only defending my stock Niggas know they pussy and struggle to pretend that they not Lose your life in the drop, while I harvest the crop My hot shit, bust a cannon have you run in your socks See we live on the edge, bang shit with a sledgehammer Split up your head, kill a snitch for the feds Let's go, for the streets I'm always spitting a gospel Get Nas holding a barrel size of elephant nostril [Chorus]
Written by: ANDRE YOUNG, NASIR JONES, D. PARKER, L. HOLOMAN, TREVOR SMITH
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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