Busta Rhymes

[fox69]

"Touchdown (Remix)"
(feat. Busta Rhymes, French Montana & Juicy J)

"Touchdown (Remix)"
(feat. Busta Rhymes, French Montana & Juicy J)



[Intro - O.T. Genasis:]
Word around town, I'm the man
Break that bitch down to the grams
Sixteen O's in a pound
Quarterback drop, touchdown, nigga

[Verse 1 - O.T. Genasis:]
Touchdown, this the remix
108, three bricks
Gotta move sixteen cause the shit sells
Still flip a couple water bottles, but the shit smell
Turned up, but I don't like niggas
He a mark, Air Nike, nigga
Niggas trippin' and I'm bustin' on site, nigga
Window down, arm out, hitch hike, nigga
Not a stoner, but I do move statue
Hoes in my cashew, they like, is that you?
Glock poppin', I ain't fuckin' with the lames
Sellin' Sherman and I got the best corner in the game, what's up?

[Hook - O.T. Genasis:]
Word around town, I'm the man, nigga
Break that bitch down to the grams, nigga
Sixteen O's in a pound nigga
Quarterback drop, touchdown, nigga
Touch, touch, touchdown, nigga
Touch, touch, touchdown, nigga
Touch, touch, touchdown, nigga
Next day air, no ground, nigga

[Verse 2 - Busta Rhymes:]
Got the niggas on the strip, you know they pitch raw
You ain't knowin' who you with, even my bitch ball
Niggas hate the way I handle when they bitch call
Couple ounces for me, sit up in they bitch brah
Major distribution, what we dealin' with is facts
Step up in the building bitch, we turn up to the max
Chop a hater down like we cut him with an axe
Watch him pop 'em in they crown if niggas think they all of that
Spend a little money, (jewelry sicker on 'em)
Put your bottles up (spill your liquor on 'em)
It's the conglomerate, shit shutdown
Taking over everything, touchdown!

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - French Montana:]
Word around town, I'm the man nigga
Want it all, bring it down to the grams nigga
Bout it, Coupe 500 grand nigga
You ain't talkin' money, I don't understand nigga
Uptown nigga, bust down nigga
Face down nigga, James Brown nigga
Ass up with your legs shake
Talkin' work know I gotta for the fan base
It ain't how you get it, it's what you do with it
Flip 21, 42 with it
Two hands up, towndown nigga
Hundred grams, lift you with the ground nigga

[Hook]

[Verse 4 - Juicy J:]
Juicy J, no days off, full time hustlin'
Shawty I'm the plug I ain't gotta touch nothin'
Send 'em your way, I just gotta press a button
If the price ain't right, nigga I ain't budgin'
Niggas stompin' industries, they rims touchin'
You lookin' like food and we got the munchies
Quarterback legendary, John Elway
Rhyme with the bulldog 38, no shell case
G-5 take off for the coast
A nigga been have more peels than Quaker Oats
Taylor Gang flyin' first class on a paper plane
With a foreign chick broad, still can't pronounce her name
Stuff a 100 grand in a Honda Civic
When you get it from the ground then the sky is the limit
Gettin' face in the car from another nigga broad
Smokin' football fields, rollin' up a 100 yards
Touchdown

[Hook]

Throw that shit like Peyton
Throw that shit like Peyton
Throw that shit like Peyton
Hurry up, I got these other niggas waiting

 

[fox69]

"Truck Volume"

"Truck Volume"


[BUSTA:]
Yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Live nigga bully foot brassed up on rap shit now.
Check it out now

[VERSE 1:]
Yeah, yeah, yeah re-lax that shit you talk
Before I sick my bitch on you that'll bounce with your dick on a fork
I'll bring a bigger storm to calm your clouds
I own a couple things; I even own a farm with cows
I own the moment when my niggas run deep through crowds
Like how a pregnant woman breast milk leek through her blouse
A lot of niggas like to wish on a star
don't give a fuck who you are
I know some niggas that'll piss on your car
Now see, every time we step in a place
I give y'all niggas shit that put a foul look on your face
And rob ice like I was never more able
Don't drink coffee 'cos my diamond be cutting the glass on the table
Hey, I be the lost found tribe of "Jabas"
Bust niggas then I plant another bomb in your ass
And then I put my students all in a class
To clear my ruler ship
And make y'all niggas fucked up doin' the math

[HOOK:]
One time now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck volume (C'MON)
Truck volume (C'MON)

[CHORUS:]
I know ya-wanna-get up-on it
Let me-show ya- how we do
Every-time we-drop that-shit you
Know we-put it-down for you (HEY, HEY)

[VERSE 2:]
How many times you gon' crush down somethin'
You need to change your name up, to Bus-A-Bus down somethin'
You fuckin' with the highest my nigga
Tryin' to fuck with the giants, might as well call me Goliath my nigga
C'mon, drop hot shit on the spot; sop it up with a mop
Before the hungry come and shop on your block
I know some niggas that'd love to blood suck you all
A thing of the past, because them niggas stuck you all
One shot bustin' the same bullet, struck you all
And when they bounce you hear voices screamin' "FUCK YOU ALL"
Gathered up about a thousand young buck's who brawl
As decoys, in case they needed to duck you all
That's why you better move tight with your click
Niggas be thirsty and quick
Just to be off into the night with your shit
C'MON, we keep it street to give a damn who you are
Make niggas wile, and bitches spread, and put they hands on the car
Now let me frisk 'em, and shake they asses down to the floor
One dude wonderin', "What them niggas is poundin' me for?
What them niggas grillin'? What them niggas houndin' me for?"
Before the poundin', "What them niggas was surroundin' me for?"
Well let me tell you what the fuck we was surroundin' you for
We came to get you once but now I come to get you for more
And while they get and got, niggas drinkin' ten-dollar-henne a shot
Getting' drunk and wilin' out in the spot

[HOOK:]
What the fuck now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Truck shit now (C'MON)
Turn my music up (C'MON)
Turn my music up (UHH)
Hot shit now (C'MON)
Street shit now (C'MON)
Truck volume (C'MON)

[CHORUS x2]

 

[fox69]

"Turn It Up"

"Turn It Up"


[Verse 1:]

We grind ya'll
Bounce back, open your mind ya'll
Grind your whole ass till you twist your waistline
Ya'll know the time
Hey yo feel the base line
Stack the overdrive
Bounce, baby feel the incline
So geniune, everytime, Busta redefine
The wicked knew the dime
Makin ya'll press rewind
Hope you feelin fine
Watch me combine and intertwine
The bounce rock skates make you cross the foul line
Shine a nickel nine
On all kinds of little swine
Stick the worst of porcupine
If you tryin to take mine
Yo, pick up my nigga Splif
In the blue 5S's
Sportin out tan, interior blue head restses
Move, baby no time for second guesses
Been articulate the right bounce as the flow finesses
Yo we gettin papers spreadin love and happiness's
Shit blazin so hot DJ's scratch the test presses
Like make it mo hot baby *chorus comes in*

[Chorus:]

Turn it up, I wanna hear it real loud, just
Turn it up, so we can party in the loft, baby
Turn it up, we need to tear the roof off, so just
Turn it up, I need to make it mo hot, baby
(repeat first three lines, finish with 'Turn it up')

[Verse 2:]

Yo, word is bond
Baby let's get it on
I never say it wrong
Yo baby girl take off your thong
Let me put it in your spirit like the holy Kyron
Got the mega song
Sweet like honey chicken dijon
Movin along
Yo, honey body look real strong
Watch your ass swing
Hangin like a medallion
Exercise baby let me see you spread on the floor
What you askin for?
Relax, I'm bout to give you some more
Where the liquor store?
Hit you with some more metaphor
The raw, hot to def shit you never seen it before
Hit the deck, on your mark, get set, we bout to jet
Spark it like ingelet, chickens breakin their neck
Yo we play to win
Such a shame, shit is a sin
So hot baby body heat bubble your skin
Everytime I flow speak
I caress the whole beach
Just like the body guard Les straight walkin the street
We get down

[Chorus]

[Verse Three:]

Yo, come on baby just feel my heat wave
A lot of hot ones ready for niggas that act brave
Chill son, you better off if you behave
Flip money while broke niggas tryin to save
Lay low, I say so, my pesos
Import my cheese stack by the castros
Make clothes
Or stay fly a chase hoes
Equatorians soft lips and straight nose
Makin dough
When we rippin the paid show
Get the money and dip, we in the Range Rove
Now we makin grands
We name brand
We make plans, change plans
Then we expand across land
Do it properly
Yo, I said open sesame
The recipe, be the hot shit, it's got to be
Yo, landscape
We arrange a whole shape
Rock the fly tape
Then I continue to skyscrape
Like blah!!!!!!!!!!!
So hot

[Chorus]

 

[fox69]

"Turn Me Up Some"

"Turn Me Up Some"


Yea, turn me up some
Fuck goin on, Yo over there, what up brother
Yea, yea
Flipmode!
See we got a whole...
We got a gift wrapped package for you motherfuckers
Yea, yo, yo, yo, yea

[verse one]
Busta,I stay with in a nigga tracks so
Hotter than wax yo so tell me why you act so
Yo, I max cuz I make a nigga black till its time to relax yo
Untill you all collapse so, fuck it
Its hardly that the god is getting tired, you don't wanna say that
Can catch a cardiac relax nigga
What, the god is back so you dont wanna in no matter how you react
Blows your black and blue your front and your back
Choose, whatever the round that you choose
wounds so herendous from projects you get to analyzing the bruise
Blows will never come in singular they coming in twos
My crew be starting the ruckus once I get them accused
Or blast from the triggers that will bust from all of my dudes
be the shit that make you niggas run up out of your shoes
We make you back down, havin the facts now
With all the noise you be making you can even see the shit on the news
Murder

[chorus]
So you don't know nuthin about it (barking)
Turn me up some
Yo, the heat from of the street will burn you up some
Yo, the shit I'm sure to spit will hurt you up some
I'm sayin
But you don't know nuthin about it (barking)
Turn me up some
Yo, I drink a fith of yack and hurl it up some
Yo, just bang it in the truck and turn it up some
I'm sayin...

[verse two]
Now watch me get a nigga fast, like them bitches with no ass
You corny niggas no class
Yo, I flash on them then I go and smash
Couple holes and then splash on them, flicking a little ash on them
From the blunt we smokin keep it chick chokin
Got them open with flows I suppose and make them soakin their clothes
Keep the shit that make them sniffin, make them open their nose
got them fucked up stuck just like they striking a pose
Yo, we gaining weight nah its just my pockets are swole
From keeping niggers whilein while they drivin smacking the pole
I want to you see, prerhaps while I hold me a stack
hating niggas blab holding me back
Yo, you fool niggers plotting against the god
Must be holding a strap
Because how we coming through you know its a wrap
Moving a crew of gorrilla dudes you know when to clap
I blow some shit from of of the earth or the face of the map
Yo, so take that
Once we give it to you aint no faking or jack
It's funny how you find your face in a trap
Little bitch nigga fronting like he ready to scrap
You better off acting pussy trying to give me your dat
Staying focusd overfiling a dream
The way we spark up this bitter fire the flame probably killing your team

Fuck it, so now we hover helicopters, turn this shit up
And you and your peoples aint hearing me proper
I'm sayin...

[chorus]
So you don't know nuthin about it (barking)
Turn me up some
Yo, the heat from of the street will burn you up some
Yo, the shit I'm sure to spit will hurt you up some
I'm sayin
But you don't know nuthin about it (barking)
Turn me up some
Yo, I drink a fith of yack and hurl it up some
Yo, just bang it in the truck and turn it up some
I'm sayin (im sayin I'm sayin I'm sayin I'm sayin)

 

[fox69]

"UFC Tap Out"
(feat. Waka Flocka Flame & Gucci Mane)

"UFC Tap Out"
(feat. Waka Flocka Flame & Gucci Mane)



[Waka Flocka Flame:]
Tap out, tap out
UFC, knock a nigga lights out
UFC, stomp a nigga lights out
Match worth a couple of millions, pull your racks out

Tap out, tap out
UFC, knock a nigga lights out
UFC, stomp a nigga lights out
Match worth a couple of millions, pull your racks out

[Busta Rhymes:]
If you want a problem, I'ma show you how to make that problem bigger
Stomp with a nigga, launch on a nigga
Bomb on a nigga, stomp on a nigga
Everybody know that when I do this shit again
You don't really wanna have no problem with me killer
Got a couple niggas that'll beat you in the head
Kinda like a 1000 little monkey and gorillas
Nigga that would whoop you all over the plate
Lick you in the back, lick you in the face
Hit you with a chair, hit you in the face
Break a nigga jaw, ain't nobody safe
Breaking niggas into pieces of little ity bity shapes
Slow motion, now niggas see the way
A nigga bone snapping, every time you looking on the tape
Somebody call a rap [?] like I'm cutting up a steak
Please somebody get 'em up
When my niggas really finished with 'em, it be floating with a lake
Submission moves from the top, when them niggas get to closing of the gate
Back up nigga give me [?]
Or you'll be the next broke nigga face in my brake

[Waka Flocka Flame:]
Tap out, tap out
UFC, knock a nigga lights out
UFC, stomp a nigga lights out
Match worth a couple of millions, pull your racks out

Tap out, tap out
UFC, knock a nigga lights out
UFC, stomp a nigga lights out
Match worth a couple of millions, pull your racks out

[Gucci Mane:]
Tell the truth man
[?]
Tote a .45, fuck the motherfucking night mane
Run up on Wop, worst night of your life damn
Old man go find your freaking head in a trash can
I don't give a damn 'bout your kids or your old man
Gucci Mane still keeping a strap, what he calling
20 gold shining in my mouth, where my gold at
You ain't got to [?] bitch with yo broke ass
Yeah I fucked your bitch, jumping up the Rolls like Macho Man
Call me Goldberg when [?] in my fucking hand
Whipping Goldberg, put a style on your fucking ass
Yeah I'm from the hood but I'm a legend in this fucking land

[Waka Flocka Flame:]
Tap out, tap out
UFC, knock a nigga lights out
UFC, stomp a nigga lights out
Match worth a couple of millions, pull your racks out

Tap out, tap out
UFC, knock a nigga lights out
UFC, stomp a nigga lights out
Match worth a couple of millions, pull your racks out

 

[fox69]

"Vivrant Thing Remix"
(performed with Q-Tip & Missy 'Misdemeanor' Elliot)

"Vivrant Thing Remix"
(performed with Q-Tip & Missy 'Misdemeanor' Elliot)



Violator makin' you sweat
Violator we doin' our thing
Violator we bringin' the pain
Violator we doin' our thing
Violator we bringin' the pain
Violator we makin the stand
Violator we doin' our thing

Uh, check it out now
Uh, yeah yeah now
Uh, check it out now
Uh, no doubt yo

[Q-Tip:]
You such a thang, a sexy little thang
I'm Hot Boyin' it, admirin' your chain
You got a fella nose wide on the reala's side
I wanna dance real close, ride up when you're hot
Playin' games yo, I never cared about it much
But you the girl who keep her eyes closed and smokin' dutch
For real, you sucha little pretty bell
You make a nigga front pants hit the mean swell
Whatchu say? I said you stimulate my brain cells
But it's one thing I really wanna say
What?

You're such a vivrant, vivrant
Vivrant, a vivrant, vivrant
Yo, you such a vivrant, vivrant
Vivrant, a vivrant vivrant

[Missy Elliot:]
You got some new shit, tryin' to gas me so we can do it
Boy, you ain't slick because I keep all dogs trained
I'll make you scream my name
Oh, you's a hot boy, before you talk junk, whatchu got boy?
If you let me touch, I'll wake it up, boy
Let you supply me for a month, boy
Oh well, get up boy, I like it rough boy
But if it's too rough, take a detour
Slide right down to my seashore
By the way I don't smoke, so what the weed for?
You get a low score

You're such a vivrant, vivrant
Vivrant, a vivrant, vivrant
Yo, you such a vivrant, vivrant
Vivrant, a vivrant vivrant [x2]

[Busta Rhymes:]
Yo, it's such a vivrant, vivrant
Immaculate baby, you're lookin' magnificent, different shit
Whiles we talkin', let's get intimate
Frontin' like you ain't even fuckin', actin' all innocent
Wait, you know you fuckin' with the fresh, baby
When I bunch, you're the type to say "rub it in my flesh, baby"
Crazy the way you chatter lay me like a baby
On the mattress, caress and lick me like a nestle's, baby
Woo, you put a tingle up a nigga's spine
Got me twitchin' all funny while we fuckin' and spillin' wine, yo
I love the way my shorty treat me
How she be throwin' it back, the way my shorty freaky
Yeah, my shorty wildin', it's a full moon
While I'm blowin' her back with surveillance all up in the room
Damn, so now we fuckin' like we ignorant
Ladies who we can get with the vivrant, vivrant, yo

It's such a vivrant, vivrant, a vivrant viv'
A vivrant, vivrant, yo, yo
That's just a vivrant, vivrant, vivrant, viv'
Yo yo a a yo yo yo yo
It's such a vivrant, vivrant, vivrant, viv'
Vivrant, vivrant, yo yo
It's such a vivrant thing, a vivrant viv'
Yo yo a a yo

 

[fox69]

"Watch How You Move"
(feat. Raekwon The Chef & Yummy Bingham)

"Watch How You Move"
(feat. Raekwon The Chef & Yummy Bingham)



[Yummy Bingham & Busta Rhymes:]
These streets is watchin' the way you move
(Watch how you move nigga)
So be careful in all that you do
(Watch what you doin' nigga)
If you shittin' where you eat it might cause you trouble
And this ain't nothing that I've heard
Only what I've learned
Mark my words
So please don't sleep
(Don't you do that)
Or the wolves come to eat
(Them niggas hungry)
And they sniff you out
And make you a target
Boy better run for cover
(Run for cover nigga)
Are you hearin' what I'm sayin?
Cause you know them boys ain't playin'
When that thing go "POP!"
Better hope it ain't for you

[Busta Rhymes:]
Yo, early to rise
As I'm recollectin'
I'm cookin'
That thing up for breakfast
One of my sons'll
Go get the paper
While I'm robed up
Louis house slippers
Nasty stocking cap on
Smoking a [?] while I plot on another caper
Respectively, see I've been genetically blessed
To move like I'm a G-F
Designer cigars and pinky rings
Ain't no question how we move on bigger things
On the patio speakin' of old connecs
My Dominican/Puerto Ricans
Pablo Augustus and Miguel Filejo
They be speakin' with strong accents
And have they soldiers shoot you, pendejo
Re-aligning the link after the convo
Gettin' back to it fast
Compadres papered up
Probly floodin' my stash
Booty-makin bitches be countin' my cash
Walk around wearin' nuttin'
Diesel as fuck
Cellulite dimples in they ass
Peep the way how I prosper
And I prophet
Gettin' cook and then grindin' it up
While I make sure these niggas ain't try'na line me up
(Gone!)

[Yummy Bingham & Busta Rhymes:]
These streets is watchin' the way you move
(Watch how you move nigga)
So be careful in all that you do
(Watch what you doin' nigga)
If you shittin' where you eat it might cause you trouble
And this ain't nothing that I've heard
Only what I've learned
Mark my words
So please don't sleep
(Don't you do that)
Or the wolves come to eat
(Them niggas hungry)
And they sniff you out
And make you a target
Boy better run for cover
(Run for cover nigga)
Are you hearin' what I'm sayin?
Cause you know them boys ain't playin'
When that thing go "POP!"
Better hope it ain't for you

[Busta Rhymes:]
Yo, I think this moment's lookin' spectacular
Very eventful and special
Detail, in-particulars is essential
Emaculate from the talk to the dress-up
All the way down to the coke in the kitchen
Shallah, please do the cheffin' stuff!

[Raekwon The Chef:]
"Yo, what the fuck happened?
Yo, slap him
Yo Rhymes, put the mac in his mouth"
I slipped, "No you di'int
This nigga is slippin'"
Different nigga from the kid we used to fuckin' wit'
I'm out in [?]
And this coke's frozen
Nigga, suck a dick
Bust' popped him
Shot him in his wind pipe
I stabbed him in his hand
Bust' shot him again
Six million grams in the sink
Down the drain
I'm to blame
We the [?]
Got to call the connect up
"Papicito, catch the train now!"
It's war in the world
We both riders
They comin' in gliders
Hear the wings pull up
We wool up
Bullet-proof boxers and socks
Two twin choppers, the Glocks
Was 30-shot; new joints. We both toxed
Then he walked in... leather 'n chucks
Old sneakers from the 80's
A crazy, my columbian pops
This is a wild caper
Fresh off the block
To the yachts

 

[fox69]

"We Comin' Through"

"We Comin' Through"


Yeah
Serious now
Serious

All my niggas
ONE TWO
Line up and
COME THROUGH
I got shit for all of you to wild out and
DUMB TO
Back and bust your gun too
Nowhere to run to
This shit is the jerk
So run your jewels and your ones too
All my bitches
WHAT WHAT
I like your whole strut
Bounce and hold your ass out
Make it open and close shut
Watch me bust a whole nut
Right over your whole butt
Slice you down with the dick
Just like you was a cold cut
OH FUCK
Now watch me dig all in your whole gut
Stuff it like a roast duck
Fucking packing a toast
WHAT WHAT
What about you slapping the shit up out ya
Flipmode
We them niggas
And I'ma always shout ya
See how we high rollers
Smoking till we high zoning
Niggas on the corner
Clutter the streets in the nights roaming
Now see how we got you open
My niggas hold your post
Bitches if your riding with me
Let's see who rocks the most

[Chorus:]
All my niggas (What what)
We coming through (What what)
Repping for my niggas and my bitches too (What what)
Back and bust your gun too
Nowhere to run to
Black out in the truck
Until there's no club to come to
All my bitches (What what)
We coming through (What what)
Repping for my bitches and my niggas too (What what)
Bounce and shake your ass out
Break fool and black out
Hit you with some shit
That will make all y'all just pass out

Know I keep that hot shit
Fuck up your block shit
Have y'all niggas stupid
On some straight cock your glock shit
Everytime we drop shit
There's no way to stop shit
Bust y'all niggas ass
Then like to sit back and pop shit
Yo we bout to lace y'all
Deface the place y'all
With shit that feel just like
A fucking foot in your face y'all
Is you with me?
(HELL YEAH!)
Before I hit y'all
Flipmode be the niggas
That will be sure to split y'all
We will never quit y'all
We won't permit y'all
Whack niggas to come inside
Like they be the shit y'all
FUCK THAT!
Yeah you know we blaze
And we wreck shop
Put it down for live niggas
While we watch the next fly
All my niggas pass through
Before we blast you
This shit so real
I don't have no need to gash you
We will never calm down
We won't put the bombs down
Rep for all my niggas
And we won't put the arms down
(Yeah you know we keep it coming)
Yo people is good for nothing
(Ay yo!)
Hot to death with shit that always keep you jumping
And rush the dance hall
Until all they ass fall
I make you other corny niggas
Get off the damn wall
And then we bless y'all
With the currently fresh y'all
And hit y'all niggas with flavor
Nothing less than the best y'all
Now we see how we got you open
My niggas hold your post
All my bitches wylin with me
Let's see who rocks the most

[Chorus:]
All my niggas (What what)
We coming through (What what)
Repping for my niggas and my bitches too (What what)
Back and bust your gun too
Nowhere to run to
Black out in the truck
Until there's no club to come to
All my bitches (What what)
We coming through (What what)
Repping for my bitches and my niggas too (What what)
Bounce and shake your ass out
Break fool and black out
Hit you with some shit
That will make all y'all just pass out

 

[fox69]

"We Could Take It Outside"
(feat. Flipmode Squad)

"We Could Take It Outside"
(feat. Flipmode Squad)



[Verse 1:]

I'm a natural born killa that's born to rise
Flipmode is the squad so it's no surprise
Niggas want to advertise about how we get down
You fuck around leave your body in the lost and found
How you like me now?
We got the industry on lock
The world is on shock
I'm a take a piece of the rock
Yo, you feel it in the heart when we took you to the park
Midnight after dark, I'm the raider of the lost ark (ark echo's)
Now na na na na na na, nana nah
Super size, super size, right before your eyes
I bring in treats like giant sweet potato pies
Wise, sword shift and I spit on flies
Killing all the tips from studio spies
Head to bed, beddie bye, beddie bye
Don't ask why, we'll take your ass to paradise
Flipmode's the squad don't rest, don't try
Peace to my people in the friendly sky
Peace to my outer space ties
I'm in leather like the ladies
Bigger than crack in the 80's (80's echo's)
Drive the buggy I Mercedes
Blow up like C-4
Got so much to live for
Can't play the game no more
Pick up the cain no more
Brothers ain't the same no more
Try to sweat me, what am I aiming for
Get yourself caught up
Faggot ass tore up
In the worst way, the only way you can stop me
is cock your glock and shot me
Drop me, pop me, make sure you that you got me
Cause anytime I live I'm comin back to find you poppy

[Chorus:]

What y'all niggas wanna do?
Yo we can take it outside
Ya'll niggas want something?
Yo we can take it outside
What y'all niggas wanna do?
Yo we can take it outside
Ya'll niggas want something?
Yo we can take it outside

[Verse 2:]

Push up in the hot rod, alley cats a rah rah
All my flipmode in the backseats with chrome nods
Hear to bust mine
Nigga frat child let his brain fry
Pretty boy sliced up philly contact from his red eye
You failed to realize when you macks me you drop the plastic
Run up in your crib, now you heat me from the mattress
My crew expanded, QB is where we landed
Yellow strip you crossed it
Now I'm forcing you to drink this champotion
Show me were loaded
The desert eagle hear it cockin'
Lovin my doggie
While we shinin' continue flossin
Steppin on toes I crush the whole shoe
Pronto like Cru till I'm Triumphant like Wu
The shit you talkin crazy like niggas turnin in their hand guns
I be burnin mc's like betty grandson
Smokin grey poupon boy
Two lines, I chew rhymes and make niggas fall like they was futons
All day outsiders, this squad be flipmode
We get a dick rode a whole shitload

[Chorus]

[Verse Three:]

We the official g-u-rilla to lead militias
Stack peelin, americana
Spit sentences like one of missy wanna's
Reminisce the promise
Bring drama like Nicaragua
Fatigues march, army leaders, they count crooked drug dollars
And sip fresh squeezed milk from the titties of llamas
Leave cities in carnage
Prettiest farmers that pour whisky at harvest and hold 16 guananas
Maintain, maintain, maintain
I pray like Gussalini Zion fists
Try on this, you can't see me like vagina lips
Smugglin diamond chips, bubblin anonymous
The dominant will resource and count script crews and world wars
(world wars echo's)
Yo, you better practice what you preach, I got 7 MC's
And 10 g's, I'll show each
Never interfere and shit, souvenirs for your ears and shit
Clear poetry like William Shakespeare and shit
Word is bond checkin me out
Hey what you talkin about
You lost and walkin about
Niggas got beef they want to say and start talkin it out
Hey, oh my god, y'all nigga be buggin me out
Wish they could lay me down and have the police start chalkin me out
Now I zoom in on you and my niggas start stalkin you out
Chuck down that bullshit that you be callin about
This one's for my people and my niggas up North
The ruler shit dynasty but Flipmode finally come fourth
Exports and imports hittin you with flavors of all sorts
My squad comin through, chop off your ear

[Chorus 2X]

 

[fox69]

"We Dem Boyz (Remix)"
(feat. J-Doe, O.T. Genasis & Wiz Khalifa)

"We Dem Boyz (Remix)"
(feat. J-Doe, O.T. Genasis & Wiz Khalifa)



[Busta Rhymes:]
Yeah, O.T. Genasis
Yeah, J-Doe
Yeah, Bus-A-Bus
BOYZ!

[Hook x2 - Wiz Khalifa:]
Hol up, we dem boyz
Hol up, we dem boyz
Hol up, hol up, hol up, we makin' noise
Hol up, hol up, we dem boyz

[Verse 1 - O.T. Genasis:]
Hol up, hol up ,hol up
I'm gettin money
Hol up, hol up, hol up
She acting funny
Man, that because these bitches want me
Weed feel like I dipped it in honey (It’s sticky)
Hand cuffin cause she model
Man,my hand cuffs is pair of diamonds
Hoping that she want to fucking swallow (Fuck me bitch)
I hit the club and click pictures,called the lotto
I got a deal they say I’m comfortable
Well, yeah, I’m treating verses like Lunchables
Drop top GT to feel the weather
Your broke ass GT, get it together

[Hook]

[Verse 2 - J-Doe:]
Hol up, Nah! ain’t gon touch that style (Oh no)
About my business,[Yeah] you already know I don’t fuck around
Unless I’m touching down with your bitch
Got her going up and down on that dick
She said what we doing tonight
Cause I don’t know what you’re doing but we better get to that shit quick
My new name Freshness ,Aloe Vicious [Uh hun]
All about my business
I don’t do fake, I don’t do hate, and I damn sure don’t do no dishes
All my niggas trip,[uh huh] all my niggas thorough
Half em rep their block,[yo] half em rep their borough
Look All these niggas know me, that Inglewood homie
Got respect from all the OGs', what the fuck you bout to show me? Hol up

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Busta Rhymes:]
It’s the conglomerate bitch! Make some noise
Respect and honour it bitch, We dem boyz
Rookie your bitch chose me, she made a choice
She said hol up hol up, I hear his voice
When I pull up, Rolls Royce
While we spend all this money, you counting coins
My bitch be bathing in berries it smell like oils
Hol up, Hol up, Hol up, Hol up,We Dem Boys
Now if you fucking with me, fire up in the air, light your dutches with me
Stack some more M’s bout a hundred fifty
Hol up, Hol up, Hol up, and if you fucking with me
Sing it!

[Hook]