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Busta Rhymes
Busta Rhymes
Исполнитель
Flipmode Squad
Flipmode Squad
Исполнитель
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Roger McNair
Roger McNair
Автор песен
Justin Smith
Justin Smith
Автор песен
Lee Jones
Lee Jones
Автор песен
Rashia Fisher
Rashia Fisher
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Trevor Smith
Trevor Smith
Автор песен
William Lewis
William Lewis
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Just Blaze
Just Blaze
Продюсер

Слова

Greatness, yeah, yeah Aiyo, turn the beat up a little bit louder Truck Volume Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah We bout to play a lil' game, match the name with the voice So when you pick your favorite emcee you makin' the right choice So who are you? Baby Sham, I'm known for the crud First night pops off with a couple of slugs And how you doin'? You see what I'm workin' wit, it's beyond rap Stick to the fact that chapped lips get convexed Palm that, look where the arm's at, nigga need to launch that Now tell me what the problem be, is that I'm scorching dem To flood these streets, hot not partially, cock back the toast Put your heart for free, so what it feels like to hear me crushin' a beat So who are you? The illest broad Digga, reppin' Brick City If I'm lying may the Lord come strike my left tittie And how you doin'? Undisputed metaphor rap queen, always cookin' up some shit Like mom's a crack fiend, so what's the word Strike a nerve when I'm speakin' Any emcee whether black or white, or Puerto Riquen I'm the big dog, you just a cat stuck in a tree Not one of y'all cocksuckers fuckin' wit me So who are we? Got you gaspin' for air, hot shit muthafuckas Throw your hands in the air Watch how we do it How we rep and yo we solemnly swear To put it down until it's over and our time is up here So who are you? Rampage, new tenant, pack big still Fuck, what ya heard, I'm ready to kill And how you doin'? Day criminal, street thug material Flipmode imperial, top breakin' officer Fuck around we warnin' ya, 21 gun salute 6 official conrads, ain't afraid to shoot Niggas see us, we got them shakin' in they boots Flipmode, the streets, bigger than Bayroots So who are you? Yeah, Spliff Starr, cunt crusher, gun busta Hard-to-toucha, one bad muthafucka And how you doin'? Gangsta bitch, deadly like cancerous I bring it where your parents live, show you what your status is Steam boil your cabbages, I can't take y'all nigaz faggotness You about to die, show him where his casket is You wanted beans, I had your hood under siege Guns get squeezed and bullets hit your knees So who are you? Bus a bus now, somethin' fo' sho' Keep 'em whilin' till somebody's left a leak on the flo' And how you doin'? We've been awaitin' the God, to make an under novel entry Controllin' everything in the yard Rugged like General Custard it seems How we crush grapefruit, niggaz, and make a mustard out of your team You know we hotter than the 4th of July So sit back and watch the fireworks show light up my name the sky So who are we? Got you gaspin' for air, hot shit muthafuckas Throw your hands in the air Watch how we do it How we rep and yo we solemnly swear To put it down until it's over and our time is up here So who are you?
Writer(s): Justin Smith, Rashia Fisher, Rahkeim Meyer, Leroy Jones, Roger Mcnair, Trevor Smith, William Lewis Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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