Skip to content
Lyric
Dive
Public playlists
My playlists
Search
Sign in
Flipmode Squad Meets Def Squad
Busta Rhymes featuring Jamal, Redman, Keith Murray, Rampage the Last Boy Scout, Lord Have Mercy
Popularity ยท Low
+
๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
0
0
Listen
YouTube
1
2
3
0:00 / 0:00
Loading YouTube player...
Lyrics offset
Synced
Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
Yeah, that even feel better
Word up, that shit even feel better
(Just sayin' the truth)
Takin' you to the other terrain (ahh), we mash strictly for the cream (ahh)
Here to kill your whole scene (ahh) and your motherfuckin' team (huh)
Little 'Mal, the raw dawg, I know you heard of me
You probably know some bitch niggas 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 tryna take a fall (ahh!)
Niggas talk about killin' and never get to it (to it)
Fuck the yappin', be true to it, do it (do it)
Steady screamin' 'bout your East and your Westside (Westside)
But you ain't in it when it come to the homicide
Niggas 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 (ahh!), I sever the best of MCs
Look! Little Mally G's trippin' off these indo trees
About to murder, label's jerkin' but mercy us
Def Squad niggas 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, yeah, ha!)
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?)
Niggas act shifty, so I shift along
Three tried, three gone, it's the same ol' song (what? 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 (ahh)
Remember, fuck around and catch a mack to your back (ha)
Who the fuck I be? I, you cannot see I
Flabbergasted, blastin' my Magnum P.I
Oops, I lie, I got a cannon 'bout the size of Grand Canyon
I'm prime time, givin' MC's Knots Landing
Duck (ha), heavens to fuckin' Mergatroid
I drop noise that employs the unbelievable
Recline like recedin' hairline (ha), crime speaks fine (ah)
With a .9, 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
Feed you to my block, now time to click triggers (chck-chck!)
Manslaughter in alphabetical order for four quarters
Raw water turn sons to granddaughters
Aha-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 (ha)
MCs dosey doe your mics up in this rodeo (ha)
My style 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 MCs like Vietnamese in army fatigues
Def Squad representer (ha)
Hit yo' ass up from the bottom when you enter
Ayo, once a crack head, always a tack head
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 (yeah)
I'm nicety and sheisty, I get that ass iced deliciously (huh)
Niggas ain't shit to me (word up)
You stupid niggas always got somethin' smart to say (what?)
And probably can't even spell T-W-A!
My crew is like police, pull up and park anywhere! (yeah, yeah, errrr!)
Jump out and get it on right then and there (wassup? Wassup?)
Niggas is pussy and ways and actions show it (ha!)
Plus y'all niggas dead and don't even know it
And Def Squad, L.O.D. for life (word up! I'll fuck your life)
Act trife, I'll let my dog cold fuck your wife, fuck your life
Ayo, 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 Howard Cossell
First up to the ring Rampage the Last Boy Scout
Lord Have Mercy for, and the Infermous
Busta Rhymes
Two one-two, I'm livin' life as a rugged MC
When I step up in your jam (uh), yo, I'm V.I.P
Niggas and bitches be eyein' me (woo), 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 nigga ass for free (yeah) and makin' sure he see visions of me (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 (uh) 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 publishin', they need to get jerked (no doubt)
A hundred percent, I gets down what I invent (tell 'em, nigga)
Rap artists be dyin' to a certain extent (woo)
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 thy evil that men do
Mental, my inner center Winter
Frosted froze crews inventor, inventor!
Invader! Evacuate, I collapse your major
Straights and loose minds (oh), you 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 nine-six
For you mindless niggas, I smack spineless
Or lay back like recliners, as inject jewels
As flesh, moves, 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, oopiu MC grinders
My dust, these rhymers I hijack like airliners (uh!)
The infiltrator, creator (yeah!), I'm sinful
Papers stay viscous like religious cults
Leaders that drop scriptures and rock clips or assault heaters
My Flipmode niggas! 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 (ha), plants my Johnny Apple-seed, now
Mental slave grip on your brain like white people (ha)
My music will dominate the population like black people
Utilize my efforts to exercise my every thoughts
I capitalize on my many and various styles of all sorts (sorts, sorts, sorts, sorts, sorts)
Hold down the forts, smokin' (ha), drinkin' mad quarts (quarts)
For sports (ha), talk to chickenheads in botty lik shorts (woo)
Let's get the cream, so that we can move up in this fortress (haa)
Bounce to art galleries and purchase exotic portraits
Here we go again, another phenomenon when I get on (ha)
Busta Rhymes and my nigga named Stretch Armstrong (Stretch Armstrong)
We represent the ultimate unit for the nine seasons
Flipmode Squad (ha) will bust your shit for even the wrong reasons (word is bond)
Chaotic sample make a nigga wanna get down (ha)
'Til we 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 niggas groovin' (hoo!)
I don't know who the fuck you really think you foolin'
You're 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 nigga, you about to feel the real force (ha)
Lay you on your face while I beat you in your head with the holy cross
Exotic niggas blastin' off to the Land of the Lost
If you can't see this, I recommend some school (ooh, hoo, ha) for the blind by Helen Keller (Keller, ha)
Big ups to Lord Have Mercy, Rampage and the Cella Dwellas
Redman and the Rockafellas (woo!)
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 '96, so stay tuned!
Flipmode completely gettin' inside o' niggas
Def Squad, respek
ย