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Aiyo, Tical? (What up, fam?) |
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You know Busta-Bust had to come see you, God, it's good to see you, God |
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(Good too see you too, God) |
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Let's take the streets for a little ride (Okay, we ridin' high) |
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Yeah, you better light your L, smoke your L |
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And just (kiss the sky) |
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Huh! And if you ever disrespect the Bust or Meth (find their mentor) |
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Yeah, I-I-I think the streets been lookin' for this one for a long time |
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(Yeah, aiyo) Come on! |
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[Method Man] |
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I came to bring the pain, more hard to the brain |
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Tical... I'm bustin' that ass again |
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I burn like acid rain, that acid slang |
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These niggaz try'nna see how I come ash again |
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Main and evident, I'm huntin', yes, Meth for president |
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Be in hell with Dazel and George just for the hell of it |
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And I ain't yellow kid, flows hot as kettle get |
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Now if you ain't ****in' with that, you must be celibate |
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Spaz! Just a little, got a sack lookin' fizzle |
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Little hash in the middle, where it at? In the middle, yup |
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Mommy if you got a fat ass, make it jiggle, yup |
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Put it in my next video shot by Little X |
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And M-E-F gon' work til their ain't any left |
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I'm tryin' get what I'm worth and not a penny less |
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Think fast (come on) bank cash (come on) |
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Everybody do it with your stank ass (just come on) |
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[Chorus: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] |
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Make you rob somebody (what?) grab somebody (what?) |
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Stomp somebody (what?) slap somebody (what?) |
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Make you wanna step to the bar and sip Bacardi (what?) |
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Wild out, spaz in the club, we in the party (what?) |
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Brooklyn (come on!) Shaolin (come on!) |
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Queensbridge down to Long Island (come on!) |
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Bronx, nigga (come on!) Manhattan (come on!) |
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To each and every hood what's happening? (come on!) |
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[Interlude: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] |
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Yeah... let 'em talk, nigga, come on Bust |
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(Aiyo, Meth, let me get at these niggaz) Yeah! |
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[Busta Rhymes] |
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Now watch me back your shit up, I hope your people pull up |
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And pick up and pack your shit up, homey, it's time to move |
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While I'm singin', ma, do you let relieve you of all of your |
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Figure seating sketching, never believe in your niggaz (come on!) |
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Go head and babble you can watch me patiently waiting |
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Aimin', attackin', instead I'mma let one of my bitches slap you |
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I ain't watch you when your niggaz'll try |
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To feel a wrath of the un-rudely waking of a sleeping giant |
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(Very defiant), once I give you the pressure |
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And then I apply it and then your breathing is stop and totally quiet (sss.. |
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oh) |
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Captain of this ship, so call me the pilot |
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I leave you and your crew to collide with me |
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Die, stomp on a nigga, just like a herd of a thousand cattle |
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That'll travel over your face and frazzle your shit |
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Shot you, worst than a brick and then be torturin' you |
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And then get the reverend, and get to steppin', nigga! |
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This shit'll make you.. |
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[Chorus: Busta Rhymes] |
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[Interlude: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] |
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Haha, that's the truth... my nigga |
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(Nigga, listen, listen, let me talk) Let me talk! (huh) |
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[Busta Rhymes] (Method Man) {both} |
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Can't you see what I got for you now |
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(Shake your big fat ass in front of me now) |
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To all my high bidders (to all my live niggaz) |
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{We here to blackout, follow the story now |
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Just feel my heat, and you know I'm gonna |
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Just keep the street, but nigga did you |
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Know when you bout to lose it, my nigga |
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And you know we gon' get real stupid, my nigga} |
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[Busta Rhymes] |
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See the police coming (what?) Fireman coming (what?) |
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Street niggaz ready to riot and start dummin' (what?) |
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I love to see it, whenever you and your man frontin' (what?) |
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Me and Meth'll step to you, quick! And smash somethin' (what?) |
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[Method Man] |
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Now who is he? Dope M.C. killin these cowards |
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Wack niggaz get pimp slapped, give me some powder |
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Click-clack, one in your back, now think about it |
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Get back, runnin' your gap, I can't allow it |
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[Busta Rhymes] |
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Well every nigga (set it off) you know we seeing it through God |
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The streets be needing niggaz like me and you, God |
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Aiyo, I think we're up, seen it from here, we got a mile, yo |
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Logical, we should of done this shit a long time ago |
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[Method Man] |
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I got that shit that make rappers shit in they shoes |
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Nasty M.C., I spit flows and spit in they food |
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Man, don't tempt me, I'm nothin' like a curious child |
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I'm simply, a boy in the hood, with furious childs (this shit'll make you) |
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[Chorus: Busta Rhymes & Method Man)] |
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[Outro: Method Man (Busta Rhymes)] |
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Every day, every rotation, come with it! (Let me talk... come on, hah) |
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(Aiyo God) Yeah, lord? (Flipmode/Wu-Tang, nigga, ain't that some shit?) |
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That's some shit, actually truthfully, Busta Bust! (Meth Tical!) |
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Yeah... (yeah, let me know when you wanna do that again, God) |
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Shit we can do that right now, shout out to New Jersey, hahaha, yeah! |
