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This is dedicated to all those who don't see it coming... |
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(Chorus: Busta Rhymes) |
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You can live true baby, you can live trife |
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Whatever way you chose you got to leave your life |
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Aiyyo you're running out of time, and you bout to cross |
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The finish line, the finish line |
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(repeat Chorus) |
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(Verse One: Busta Rhymes) |
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And, yo! I can't afford to waste a second |
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Steppin with my eyes on niggaz checkin on my weapons |
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Every millisecond, motherfuckers say they true to this |
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But when they grab the microphone they shit sound like stupidness |
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*beatboxing* Hah, mad to pull another vicious scandal |
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I know that you can't handle when I flip from other angles now |
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Feel my hot wax, burning from my melting candles |
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You can't take the heat, so you switch from boots to wearing sandals |
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This is for example! Shit will make a nigga curse |
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When worse comes to worse, you be the first to disperse now |
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We don't BELIEVE your man was living like that |
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Hoping to find that nigga see exactly where his heart was at |
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It's a damn shame how Son know your style, know your name |
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Watch how he pull your file, make you wish you never fuckin came NOW |
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Even the hardest motherfucker has his final day |
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So kill that shit you talkin, and be about your fuckin way |
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(Chorus 2X) |
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(Verse Two: Busta Rhymes) |
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Yo, everyday I see you on the block smoking |
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With a bunch of niggaz scoping on how they can split you WIDE open |
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You don't even know what's going on up in your circle |
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Awful murder niggaz itch to leave you black blue and purple |
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Ahh, your man came to put you on and tried to make you bleed |
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Hit you with some shit that left you flippin mad in disbelief |
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You just can't believe that niggaz that you smoke with is on it |
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And the way they rass they really got to bust yo' shit! |
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Thought your man was joking, paid no attention to the situation |
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Got with your crew and just continued smoking |
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Now your man sit and watch you panic |
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In any other situation you'd be fronting like you gigantic |
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I guess all that fronting is your main talent |
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It's apparent, he can see right through you like you transparent |
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Hah, aiyyo you need to watch your back you running out of time |
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Watch your step, cuz you only inches from the finish line |
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(Chorus 2X) |
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(Verse Three: Busta Rhymes) |
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Now, there's about a million motherfuckers on your trail |
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Quick to bust your shit for every single time your words failed |
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I'm watchin all the moves you makin fuck the speculatin |
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Super-bitch nigga you just be fakin if I'm not mistakin |
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Every move you fake you dig your grave a little deeper |
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Come around me with that shit I'ma flip it to my brother's keeper |
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Listen to this: overstress my emphasis |
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I insist to fix and bring the noise as long as I exist |
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Now you walk around the streets with all that shit you speak |
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And step inside the club just to receive the illest ass beating |
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HOO! Take a look around you get no type of sympathy |
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Impatiently, I sit and watch you die in your own iniquity |
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Hah, now you out dead and stinkin, and your eyes are no longer blinkin |
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Time caught up quick, with your little BITCH way of thinkin |
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Ahh, watch you diminish, while your niggaz have to put a finish |
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On your misleading false image |
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(Chorus 5X) |
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Word is bond, bond is life |
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You shall be willing to give your life |
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Before your words shall fail |
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All those who out there frontin, misleading they peoples |
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Actin other than they really are |
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It will catch up to you player, word is bond |
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So that's, specifically, to all those fake motherfuckers |
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Living out here on that bullshit |
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Trying to act like they know what the fuck's going on |
