Music Video
Flipmode Squad Meets Def Squad (feat. Jamal, Redman, Keith Murray, Rampage the Last Boy Scout,...
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Jamal
Vocals
Keith Murray
Vocals
Lord Have Mercy
Vocals
Rampage the Last Boy Scout
Vocals
Redman
Vocals
Busta Rhymes
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Keith Murray
Songwriter
Jamal Phillips
Songwriter
M. King
Songwriter
R. McNaire
Songwriter
Reggie Noble
Songwriter
T. Smith
Songwriter
Busta Rhymes
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Busta Rhymes
Mixing Engineer
Rick St. Hilaire
Engineer
Tom Coyne
Mastering Engineer
The Vibe Chemist Backspin
Producer
Vinnie Nicoletti
Assistant Engineer
Lyrics
Yeah, that even feel better
Hold up, shit even feel better
Busta Rhymes
Taking you to the other terrain
(Ha)
We mash strictly for the cream
(Ha)
Here to kill your whole scene
(Ha)
And your motherfuckin' team
(Huh)
Little 'Mal, the raw dawg, I know you heard of me
You probably know some bitch **** who wanna murder me
Busta, Reggie, Murray, Ramp and Mercy's all we need for disaster
('Saster)
For me the microphone master
Look, I crash ya, bash ya skull
Fuck with Mally G if you're trying to take a fall
(Ha)
**** talk about killin' and never get to it
(To it)
Fuck the yappin', be true to it, do it
(Do it)
Steady scream about your East and your West side
(West side)
But you ain't in it when it comes to the homicide
**** better get up off that bullshit quick
Caught up in the limelight gettin' way too slick
(Slick)
See 'em at the shows 'bout to rock they shit off
Gettin' they peeps fucked up 'cause they block is soft
As for terror
(Ha)
I sever the best of MC's
Look, little Mally G trippin' off these indo trees
About to murder label's jerkin' but mercy us
Def Squad **** prophesize like the Perseus
Droppin' degrees to zero with flatlines
Kill your whole entourage off with just one rhyme
One rhyme, one rhyme, one rhyme, just one rhyme
(Ha)
I don't give a fuck I kill 'em with just one rhyme
Woo, hah, heh, ya-hah
You wish that you could get with this
(What)
Terrorist, lyricist, for your era it's
My time to shine and I'm still payin' dues
(Dues)
And I'ma be famous on either rap or the news, motherfucker
I only tell you nothin' but the real it's
Tight up in the struggle tryin' to get this fuckin' meal
(Why?)
**** act shifty so I shift along
Three tried, three gone, it's the same ol' song
(Look what)
I seen the shades and the suedes from afar, Pa
(Pa)
But hold up do you know who I are?
The M-A-Double
(What)
You want trouble you got it the spot is on
You blot it, I got it then shot it, it's hot up in your dome
(Dome)
Peace with the chrome piece that I pack
(Ha)
Remember fuck around and catch a Mack to your back
(Ha)
Who the fuck I be I, you cannot see I
Flabbergasted, blasting my Magnum P.I.
Oops I lie
(Uh)
I got a cannon 'bout the size of Grand Canyon
I'm prime time, giving MC's Knots Landing
Duck, heavens to fucking Mergatroid
I drop noise that employs the unbelievable
Recline like receding hairline, crime speaks fine
With a Nine, pull line blind, keep mines up my sleeve until
You start to quiver
(Ha)
Metabolism splits rivers
I rock so many broads I leave your entourage tender
Like bartenders mix liquor
(Ha)
I serve you over the rocks, I feed you to my block, now time to click triggers
Manslaughter in alphabetical order for four quarters
Raw water turn sons to granddaughters
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! I bring trouble where, you sleep
So I double dare to bust you in your bubble bear, coat
Antidotes cause gunsmoke in Tokyo
MC's dosey doe your mics up in this rodeo
My star roast 'em up by the thousands, millions, quadrillions
(Huh)
Shuttin' down national state buildings with high ceilings
Funk Doc to the spot freeze
Creepin' on MC's like Vietnamese in army fatigues
Def Squad representer
Hit yo' ass up from the bottom when you enter
Hey yo once a crack head
(Hey)
Always a tack head
(Hey)
You have no craftibility all that shit you talk is dead
As sex drugs and violence, balance the scales of reality
(Ha)
Y'all don't want no parts of Keith Murray
I'm nicety and sheisty, I get that ass iced deliciously
(Ha)
**** ain't shit to me
(Word up)
You stupid **** always got somethin' smart to say
(What)
And probably can't even spell TWA
My crew is like police pull up and park anywhere
Jump out and get it on right then and there
(What's up, what's up?)
**** is pussy and ways and actions show it
(Ha)
Plus y'all **** dead, and don't even know it
And Def Squad L.O.D. for life
(Word up, yeah fuck your life)
Act trife I'll let my dawg go fuck your wife
(Hey yow, you just heard the sounds of Mally G)
(Redman, Keith Murray, bringin' the ruckus, the Def Squad)
(Next up is the Flipmode Squad, this is how it's gon' sell)
(First up to the ring Rampage the Last Boy Scout)
(Lord Have Mercy For and the Infamous)
(Busta Rhymes)
2-1-2, I'm living life as a rugged MC
When I step up in your jam
(Uh)
Yo I'm V.I.P.
**** and bitches be eyein' me
(Whoo)
I'm spontaneous, I'm wreckin' brothers out the frame
Because I'm dangerous
(Uh)
I'm well known like Keith Murray and my boy Reggie Noble
Chickenheads get gassed, so they call me on my mobile
I'm great distance like AT&T
(T)
I stroke like a butterfly, sting like a bee
(Yeah)
Yo I fades them all like my man Mally G
Whip a **** ass for free
(Yeah)
And makin' sure he see visions of me
(Uh-uh-uh)
Rampage the talk of the town
(Uh)
The stalker of New York that fucks up the underground
(No doubt)
I'm comin' thorough like a pack of Life Savers
(Uh)
Ask Marley Marl who's the real Future Flavors
My technique I freak seven days a week
I'm undefeated
(Yeah)
You can see my Quantum Leap
(Uh)
I'm hittin' brothers where it hurt, lyrical expert
Those who got no publishing they need to get jerked
(No doubt)
A hundred percent, I gets down what I invent
(Sell it ****)
Rap artists be dying to a certain extent
(Whoo)
Sometimes they use the underground to make a comeback
That shit is wack
(Wack)
Fade away and never come back
For now and forever, it's I, evil that men do
Mental, my inner center winter
Frosted froze crews inventor
(Inventor)
Invader, evacuate I collapse your major
Straights and loose minds
(Uh)
You're splits two times, for intruders, for these losers
My maneuvers, drop like lugers
Illegal, maybe lethal, like Gibson's
Splittin' blessings, with three weapons
Lay in the cut like C-sections, infestin' the '96
For you mindless, **** I smack spineless
Or lay back like recliners, as inject jewels
Axe flesh, wounds, when in vaginas, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
Corrupt your minors, like New York City's finest
Lineups, on LSD fine dust, in your sinus
Crush like chinas, opium MC grinders
Minus, these rhymers I hijack like airliners
The infiltrator
(Ha)
Creator
(Hey)
I'm sinful
Papers stay viscous like religious cults
Leaders that drop scriptures, and rock clips or assault heaters
My Flipmode ****, we're like Afghanistan guerillas
If you want more information look listen and read
While I sit back and I roll another fat bag of weed
We about to take control of your set like cruise control speed
Satisfy my lyrical semen, plants my Johnny Apple-seed
Mental slave grip on your brain like white people
My music will dominate the population like black people
Utilize my efforts to exercize my every thoughts
I capitalize on my many and various styles of all sorts
(Sorts, sorts, sorts, sorts, sorts)
Hold down the forts smokin' drinkin' mad quarts
(Quarts)
For sports talk to chickenheads in batty lick shorts
(Whoo)
Let's get the cream so that we can move up in this fortress
(Ha-ha)
Bounce to art galleries and purchase exotic portraits
Here we go again, may another phenomenon when I get on
(Ha)
Busta Rhymes and my **** named Stretch Armstrong
(Stretch Armstrong)
We represent the ultimate unit for the Nine-season
Flipmode Squad will bust your shit for even the wrong reasons
(Word of mine)
Chaotic sound make a **** wanna get down
(Ha)
'Til he come through like the ATF and shut your shit down
(Ha)
Alcohol tobacco and firearms is how we movin'
Raw rapid fire flows while the music keeps you **** groovin'
(Huah)
I don't know who the fuck you really think you foolin'
You so far from up to par and your shit needs improvin'
From your conversation the way you come across your shit is off
Malfunctionin' my **** you 'bout to feel the real force
Lay you on your face while I beat you in your head with the Holy Cross
Exile the way this ****'s off to the Land of the Lost
If you can't see this
I recommend some "School for the Blind" By Helen Keller
(Keller)
Big ups to Lord Have Mercy, Rampage and the Cella Dwellas
Redman and the Rockafellas
(Whoo)
Big ups to Mally G, Keith Murray sunny days and bad weathers
(Ha-ha-ha)
But still we travel the world like National Lampoon
It's Busta Rhymes for the whole entire ninety-six so stay tuned
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Flipmode completely getting inside a ****
Def Squad, respect
Written by: Jamal Phillips, K. Murray, M. King, R. McNaire, Reggie Noble, T. Smith
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