Featured In
Similar Songs
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Busta Rhymes
Vocals
Jamal
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
J. Phillips
Songwriter
Jamal T Phillips
Songwriter
John Cleveland
Songwriter
Trevor George Smith Jr.
Songwriter
Busta Rhymes
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Busta Rhymes
Mixing Engineer
Floyd Nixon
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Tom Passetti
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer
Dominick Barbera
Mixing Engineer
Vinnie Nicoletti
Recording Engineer
Lyrics
(Jamal:)
Come on, yeah. villain
Come on, aight?
I got this side right here
Take this side right there
Come on do this
Busta Bus
Come on. Alright?
Come on (here we go) stayin' street.
(Jamal:)
Paws, to the wall, with the dirty dog, raw rap-ture
If you ain't with it bite crotch til it break your jaw
(Your jaw) For tryin' to knock us
Tryin' to kill or stop us, jack our propers
Busta Bus, they fakin' the cake is for the takin'
While they runnin' they face, I'm lettin' the plan bake
Formulate, now look at the plot, we got
more and more shit that's hot, show to rock the spot
Clock or knot, nigga the whole pot
Ready or not, we comin' snatchin' every comer
witcha hoe in the Benz-O, dumbin' like a muthafucker.
(Busta Rhymes:)
You can be my lady, you coul even be my lollipop sucker
The road dawg baby comin' like the mad trucker
Lot of jealous niggas lookin' funnier than Chris Tucker
God bless, oh yes, I stay fresh
Full of finesse, my congress show progress
Stylish, hit you with the shit to digest
In this rhyme shit we be some of the world's finest
Your Highness, leavin' corny niggas spineless
Attack it with the classic rhyme flow timeless.
(Chorus: Busta Rhymes)
Not a problem my squad can't fix
Cause we can do, it in the mix
So when you niggas talk trash, you can get a bust ass
Cause you know we don't fuck around
When you niggas talk shit, lay your 6 feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground
When you niggas talk shit, lay your 6 feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground.
(Jamal:)
This is how we ride, throw your hands from side to side
It's party time, and don't forget get yours, cause I'm a get mine
(Who that?) The villain til I'm peelin' a million
Ridin' dirty, and bustin' like 30-30 til a nigga end
Knowin' that the shit is fucked I'm still here to win, cheddar
If you ain't about it then I think you better
hang the little plot you got, don't sweat it main
My nigga, my life's uncut like Kane, real _Raw_
Y'all don't know shit about Jamal or what I'm in it for:
cash, cars, fly whores and tours
Fillin' my pipe, with no messes and no limits
Them other one scrimpin' has the tent froze frigid
Fall as a gimmick, dick lickin' chasin' chickens
I mash for the cash with the click and
rip a show then I'm dippin' in the whip and high trippin'.
(Busta Rhymes:)
While y'all niggas hoppin' and skippin' I stick the clip in, yo
Accelerate on the gas, move fast
Blast, find a nigga [foot] in your ass
Colorful niggas, just peep the whole contrast
Flipmode is the Squad, a news flash
Bust your shit up, what the fuck, nigga get up
Violate, niggas get they whole [shit] lit up!
Break fool, niggas know the rules, rob jewels
Champagne bath, throw the Mo-et in the pool
Nigga caught a muthafuckin' strain on the brain
ridin' on the train, I'm a whip a Benz in the rain
Oversized click on the rise so realize we be
Them niggas that dead up all you funny little small fries
The franchise, Flipmode damagin' all of you Fall Guys
Yo I'm tired of niggas they full of True Lies
No time... we got the right surprise
Need a new beginnin' need to get a baptise
You need to get a baptise
Word is bond, aiyyo.
Not a problem my squad can't fix
Cause we can do, it in the mix
So when you niggas talk trash, you can get a bust ass
Cause you know we don't fuck around
When you niggas talk shit, lay your 6 feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground
When you niggas talk shit, lay your 6 feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground.
Ground, a-ground, a-gr-gr-ground-ground
Just party to the shit like this come on
Just bounce to the muthafuckin' beat come on
You niggas don't know my brand new song come on
Aiyyo, hear me out y'all, [uhh]
Yo, and just feel my shit.
Come on, bounce what the fuck?
Writer(s): Jamal Phillips, Trevor Smith, Michael Cleveland
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