time you got out Let me spread out and lubricate Drop a jewel, to make the average fool hate, when I bust But I bust, plus, everybody in the dust, slow
Spit my rhymes all around and y'all sang my shit Spit my rhymes all around and y'all sang my shit Switch my rhymes all around and say that shit Now why is everybody
a bitch or a busta, bust a, four fizzle surface the air miss wit a homie, wait for the whistle Who you thought we was? Temperatures might rise Before everybody
Busta Rhymes and Angie Martinez Sippin on martinis Check it out now, check it out now, c'mon, c'mon Now let's take it from the gutter to the fancy shit
my dawg 2-time smokin on a J while he play Busta Rhymes Hep's over there with a bunch of dimes we don't go to bed till the sun rise up in the club hands
bitch or a busta, bust a, four fizzle Surface the air miss wit a homie, wait for the whistle Who you thought we was? Temperatures might rise Before everybody
slow It gives me a chance to let everybody know It's time to bust out the Rakim show I'm the intelligent wise on the mic I will rise Right in front of
tones Shooting missiles from the lab, I contract, bust verbal raps Ripping, torn thru, and spilling into laps Douse lyricals with divine divinity To rise
ugh I started out dumb sprung off a hood rat Listening to the radio wishing that I could rap But nothing changed I was stuck in the game 'Cause everybody
commotion Everybody do the hop, niggaz soothe like lotion I lay up in the piece or an incognotion You gotta do the hop then move to the beat, you don't stop Now everybody
the street And they saying My name is Sharina, my name is Busta My name is Tonia, my name is Busta My name is Dianna, my is Busta And what do you take
I walk this globe I be spittin more verses than the book of job [busta rhymes] Why are you ignoring us Running into hiding and avoiding us Niggas on the low be recording us My rhyme
mic, now meet your escort If the shot's rusted, hot sauce for all you block busters Duck it, you're fuckin' with the spot rushers Bustin' with brand
meet your escort If the shot's rusted, hot sauce for all you block busters Duck it, you're fuckin wit the spot rushers Bustin wit brand new artillery
going slow It gives me a chance to let everybody know It's time to bust out the Rakim show I'm the intelligent wise on the mike I will rise Right in front
on my toes Left him ten feet Part from his heat Play it softly The truth speaks through this poetry For me to call shot Cock block my life Add a little spice Devil eyes snake rise
haa, Loot Pack's on the rise Sayin', "Liks, liks, liks boy, run your backside" Yo, J-Ro, Mad Lib, my man Just, get on the mic and please arise the jam I bust