nigga, Rick James When I was a young boy, growin' up in the ghetto Hangin' out on corners, singin' with the fellas Lookin' for the cute chicks, tryin' to find me big
Been through the storm, through the cold and rain Every thing's still the same Can't control how I feel Sometimes it's hard to keep it real You see the
is clear To all of my peers, I'm a muh'fuckin' vet Don't mean to disrespect, 'cause I write rhymes, I write checks (It's clear) Bust, aiyyo what happened
New York click Yeah, I'm on my New York shit I rep the Giants, the Jets, New York Knicks Tailor-made clothin' with my New York stitch My chick bangin
leave it, stop, format it Touch it, bring it, babe, watch it Turn it, leave it, stop, format it Get low Bus Who be the King of the Sound? Busta Bus
her crotch on my thigh, rubbin' all on her cho-cho Shake yo shit till you fall on the flo' Sho' we be fuckin' class bitches, I ain't fuckin' with no hoe Bust
Ai ya ya yio Busta Rhymes, ya gotsa be the sure shot Flipmode, ya gotsa be the sure shot Aftermath, ya gotsa be the sure shot My live niggaz y'know, who
know I love the way my bitch be holdin' it down She is truly thorough 'bout the way she be reppin' it hard Travel anywhere, my shorty come fuck with the guard Bust
me there and if you Ya girl looking like she wit' it, she can come in too You get impatient Ma, show you just how the kid move I'm bangin' in the truck
Yeah, I know A lot of you niggaz don't plan on the day when you'd have to see me You see, I'm that nigga that you should really be afraid of I dig graves
to let a muhfucker back on the block With the bullshit, see y'all done fucked up now Turn the volume up and bang it out the trunk now You gotta problem
, no creepin' on me whenever I'm bent My mind spray, my nine spray And freak styles like 3000 Andre To keep pilin', keep pushin' them drops Nas, runnin' with hot Busta Bust
I'm just playin' wit' y'all niggaz I'm just playin' wit' y'all niggaz I'm just playin' wit' y'all niggaz I'm just playin' wit' y'all niggaz They see
blast that three atcha, hide in the wall We gangsta, republicans with them big things, big rings Get your head shot off, daddy you don't believe chains Loose cameras, big
I, I never thought that I could find (Excuse me miss) Someone, so special (Can I have a word wit'chu, baby) Miss, can I get a second to speak and quietly
] Go.. get you some [Q-Tip] Don't stop, nigga we ain't done, gun it through your fuckin road block [Busta Rhymes] I'm sayin who told y'all to let a muhfucker
me [Busta] We got some shit for that ass [Missy] Come on give it to me [Busta] We got some shit for that ass girl [Busta Rhymes] Bounce back, brand new
James Cruz, Mona Scott, the whole Violator family bitch!!! Big up to Nas, big up to Jay-Z, big up to Roc-A-Fella, big up to Ruff Ryders DMX, EPMD, Jazzy
