One, Two, Shit (feat. Busta Rhymes)

One two, one two

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

Yo, it's the Q-Tip, you know I get down

Yes, I rock to the rhythm of a funky sound, it go

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

And it's the Phife Dawg, and I do the same

And when it comes to ripping mics, a-yo it ain't no games

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

A-yo you know it's Busta Rhymes, every time

Oh yes, I'm coming wicked with a new design, I'm saying

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

One-wa-wa-one, one two, one two

MC's ain't comin' equipped with the rhymes

Don't do the crime if you can't do the time

The time is eternal when you play with the miser

Soul is in my body and the health make me wiser

The tantalizing wordplay, yeah, that's the joint

Sometimes I have to cuss just to prove my damn point

Brothers need to come with better compositions

I write and recite to make good position

In this rap game here, we engineer

Stabbin' up the jam, yeah, son, shit's clear

And I be kicking rhymes in my own damn way

Beatin' **** to the punch like Sugar Ray

Got the cool-ass style that's cooler than the cool

My lyrics is the bullet and the mic is the tool

Peace to C-73 and C-74

Do a little somethin' when I'm out on tour

Comin' through like narcotics for the antibiotics

Flap a shorty's pockets to the space like Sprockets

What you really need to do is just boogie your ass

It's not gas, we got to make the good times last

Let the good times roll, 'cause we in control

Take you out on your hide, 'less you payin' the toll

Let the good times roll, let the good times roll

Take you out on your hide, 'less you payin' the toll

Question, why is that MCs be wack

And major labels wanna sign all that crap, a-yo funk that

Word to life, I'm coming rugged

'Cause once you add the hip to the hop, kid, it equals out to love

If the beat's fat, I use it, some wack shit, I lose it

Refuse it, how could you choose it, it stinks, reuse it

Put down the mic, kid, 'cause you gets no dap

How long did it take for you to see you can't rap

That name is Phife Dawg and I got 'nuff styles

It doesn't take long for me to get buckwild

So bust when I'm swinging, what I'm swinging, when I swing

I rap when I rap, 'cause I never wanna sing

Go ask the last MC what happened when he said battle

I bust his ass in Cleveland now he's sleepless in Seattle

Rude Boy official comin' with the ill grammar

Comin' back on kids like Joey Montana

We be the three MC's that make your mind go batty

Mad play on WKRP in Cincinnati

So Lord, send a hand and if you can't send a hand, send a man

And if you can't send a man, come yourself

'Cause all these bitin' MCs, Lord, them somethin' else

See, I kick the styles that'll make your ass melt

Money on my mind, so never mind a trick

New York is the town and the team is the Knicks

World's geratest five-footer rippin' parties apart

Here comes Shaheed with the big green shark

Never had to rhyme about filling one with lead

Never mind that, man, here come the dread

We coming far, far, far

Busta Rhymes is coming far, far, far

You know you hear me, star, bet your bottom dollar

Right after this jam about one million, one two **** gon' follow

Whether it be today or tomorrow

**** become aggravating, sickening, you beat them like they father

Oh shit, check out what I'm saying

A-ha-a-ha, oh, a-ha-a-ha, you know my **** don't be playing

Once upon a motherfucking time

I recieved the opportunities to represent my first rhymes

To define lyrical sensations

Black masons blowing up the spot just to represent the Nations

Three dimenions, tryclops

Mr. Busta Rhymes' three eyes

Fat like a burger and fries

Mama-so, mama-sa, mama-makossa

Go back to the country to go check my grandmama

Eee-yah, bring it to the table at the meetings

Gathering large receivings, delivering intellectual ass beatings

As I carry on with my proceedings

Greetings, watch a **** debut on premier movie screenings

But before I be face to face with my eternal resting place

I hope to find civilized every soul and every race

Sit, dog, sit, Busta Rhymes forever on the ultrasonic shit