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Welcome to the bank |
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Where you deposit Young Money, and you get Cash Money |
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I'm Tunechi, the Boss |
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And live from the vault, is Busta Bust |
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[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes] |
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Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yo |
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Swag mania, pop that goes most |
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Carry the most beautiful bitches |
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With us, happily toast |
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Keep the faculty close |
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Gross when we give them a dose |
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Got them ODing, leaning in each coast |
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Scenery froze, take notes, Rock Rolls |
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Diamonds that fit in Chanel Minks in the winter |
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Who fucking with us? |
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We coming to give them the shivers, watery flows, spilling like rivers |
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Flooding the street, hoping niggas' swimming is moving gorillas |
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King Kongs, Godzillas when we roll up |
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Seat filling niggas, get up when we show up |
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[Verse 2: Q-Tip] |
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Uh, Shit |
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Please don't throw up |
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Hold your liquor, grow up |
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If you robbing niggas, we going to show you how to blow up |
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Thank your lucky stars, it's the Rap Czar, tuck your shit in |
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My niggas bite like Rin Tin Tin, my chagrin |
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You never win, model thin, walking crack in your shin |
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She gives in every time that I spin |
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Square up, bow down to the kings of the hall |
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We wade on, talk shit while we ball |
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So what's cracking with yall? |
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[Verse 3: Busta Rhymes] |
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Made in New York, and the slick talking thieves of the order |
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Call the reporter, stepping like the British walkers |
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Legendary swag flu and see the influence, see how we do it |
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Get them into it steadily, Got em stupid, so undisputed |
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Act fool, back tool, until they pop off |
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Police crowd up the street, blocking them off, locking them off |
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Got these niggas wilding while I signal my soldiers |
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Postin' it up, maintaining composure, staying on the sofa |
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Thirty bottles, twenty waitresses, bring them over |
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See how we light up shit, nigga, call the promoter |
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And tell that nigga bring the bag, better hurry up with it |
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And count the money up proper, cause you can get it |
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[Bridge: Kanye West] |
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Yeah |
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It feel good, don't it? |
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It feel good, don't it? |
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Hey, I want to let ya'll know |
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Hey, hey |
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I want to let yall know |
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This Yeezy |
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And you listening to Q-Tip |
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[Verse 4: Q-Tip] |
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Set them up, stiletto up, saddle up and let's go |
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Good times, only difference, niggas is making it though |
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Chatter is up, peep the way we batter it up |
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On top of the mountain, folding the ladder up |
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You dead and done rip up your paper, cause your status is none |
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Transfixed on the strengths of the page, whether chopper or gauge |
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You're just a single, cause you wouldn't engage |
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Turnt up with the script on the cup, you keep the gobbles with us |
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[Verse 5: Busta Rhymes] |
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See how we push sometimes man forget cuff, beat him the head |
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Boop-be-de-de-boff, zippity-boof |
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Beat him in the head again. |
