Lyrics:
Busta Bust
In God We Trust another one bites the dust
Hey Ramp, fuck that!
I was 'bout to see this cat
Some niggas pulled up in a black suburban
I'm runnin' out the back door
Ain't nothin' nice in my life
I ask my nigga Spice
(What's up, nigga) Don't wanna die
Am I livin' right?
I hit the corner
I beat yo' ass twice and you still here
Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself?
Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else
Every time we wild, that's rock n' roll, baby
It's back to the basics, hop back in the matrix
Gave the Maybach back, back, now it's off to the races
at the crossroad but I wasn't by myself
Some take the right and, some take the left
But lo and behold, what do I see?
In the distance, some resistance
[Chorus]
Jamaica slide by
Slide down now
Slide up now
To the right
To the left
Now bounce
Run the track
Run the track
Run the track
It's bobsled time
Run the track
player there, nigga turned you out
But never told you beware
Never told you that black love supposed to be shared
And you never judge a woman by
bless.
Right back,
To the topic.
We fighting hard,
Ain’t no stopping it.
We taking off,
Like a rocket.
Black lives,
We the hottest.
Now you know,
We
the evolution
I give up, I give in, I move back a little
I live up, I look up, now I'm back for more
You can dream but don't neglect the execution
I give up,
the orphan babies got no moms and dads
How can we sit back and not try to make it right
We gotta come together we gotta fight for life
Fred Durst:
Somebody
pulling on the in-and let's all get high
In the back of my-Black on Black,you come through in ninety
Bumpin' you remind me with the cops right
the Callie
That boss ordered us lobster tails late night in forty
We was out there tryna rig the stress
Had a beat tape from Stretch, rest
Black TEC, black
to
A base-head cleaned up his act
He stopped smoking crack and took his soul back
Decided, he could find a much better way to live
You know the way, positive
niggas and my niggarettes
Let's do it like this
I'ma rub your ass in the moonshine
Let's take it back to '79
I bomb atomically, Socrates'
One one one one two
P-P-5-D
Yeah, yeah, P-P-5-D
I'm sayin, yo
Touch this yo, nahmsayin what?
Yo-yo, yo, 100%
Yo! On these seventy-three keys
might be walking blindfold into a typhoon
I might be seeing rockets light up the night sky
Right outside of the window of my living room
And if they do
You know we back, right?
Clear the streets out
Come on with it, ha-ha, Star Trak
Niggas is haters, I'm doin' deals like the majors
Ice Cream
the pat downs
Tryna avoid all the lame hoes
Weirdos in the background
Black out when I back out
Blow the horn for a pedestrian
Shawty ride like
Punk, put a hump in your back
They call you "Igor"
War? This shit is hard, any yard where we are
We call that cocaine "rice"
I got that Condoleezza
Huh?
right above it
We on, it's Young Money, motherfucker
If you ain't runnin' with it, run from it, motherfucker
Alright, now somebody show some money in
run in with the long arm of the law, I'm long gone
I'ma do five years, no less than that, no questions asked
So it might be a good idea to stop right
going hard, run it back just like it's Walter Payton
The game's sweet, gave all my niggas an occupation (Ugh)
We so sophisticated (Ugh)
Shit so
young black male
Some see me stranded in this land of Hell
Jail and crack cells
? culture
Or the repercussion
While bustin' on back
sedated by the gasoline fumes
And hypnotised by the satellites
Into believing what is good and what is right
You may be worshipping the temples
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