Against All Odds

-- Synced by NoMan --
Uh-huh, uh-huh

Ayo, pause your pencils as hollow tips get in you
Box cutter to slice your face, you rhymes is natural (Yeah)
Hold two lives and four wives up in the crack capsule
Flipmode, cruddy styles has been past you
Rush pass (Uh), you couldn't touch cash (Yeah)
If it was under your nose like a moustache, nigga, you butt ass (Uh)
Show your whole cheek (Yeah), slugs with no heat (Uh)
Diamonds that don't break (Yeah), you thugs is so sweet

I float so much (Uh) I get seasick (Uh)
Flipmode is the Squad who I be's with (Uh), who I get pledged with
And push German V's with (Uh)
Rampage (Yeah), I'm psychic, I can see shit
'Til the next millennium you not gon' be shit (Uh, yeah)
Scratch your name off the list (Uh), cut your wrist (Uh)
You know the issue (Uh), I'm official
When you die, none of yo' niggas is really gon' miss you (Miss you, miss you...)

Flipmode Squad! Here to drop bombs
Against all odds! Still remain gods
Grip your arms! We always come hard
The world is ours! Call a National Guard (Here we go)

Any bitch that rhyme wanna flex, she ass (Yeah)
I'm stomping all things like I'm plexi-glass (Yeah)
Niggas make way like when they hear sirens (Uh)
Treat you like parking too close to fire hydrants (C'mon)
All up in the board, kickin' back long islands
Get your wig split, first solid defiance
Rah, Earth and sun (Uh) in this Imperial alliance (Uh) (Yeah)
You do the science (Yo)

I'm getting money shitting, turn intruders into vixens (So what?)
Fall off beeper, uh-uh, niggas stay gettin' (Yeah)
Dutty nigga for life, that's how Spliff's living (Uh)
Throwing niggas in caskets tired of a yellow ribbons
I buck my gun if you touch my ones (So what?)
Rather Jamaican than belly boy make you people for fun (Uh)
Fat Man's Son, street educated
The colonel of ghetto jurors, still thug related (Huh)

Flipmode Squad! Here to drop bombs
Against all odds! Still remain gods
Grip your arms! We always come hard
The world is ours! Call a National Guard (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

We enemies of three strike felony laws
Gorilla dickin', K-Y jelly for whores
Lapdances, trap grands without laws
My baby moms, three eighty firearms that bust with loud force (Rawrrrrr)
The ghetto with us, that bang Makaveli in trucks
That whatever the fuck to give a cheddar in chunks
Fugazi chains, fake thugs with lazy aid
Track marks, rap stars and a raid of aids

Yo, yo. What you want from us, (Hah) now there's a lot more of us
Stay toting under my given flavor from Nauticas (Hah)
Destroy every arch-rival or any challenger (Hah!)
Make you remember this day, nigga, mark it on your calendar (Hah!)
I'm showing you somethin', you ain't saying nothin' (Hah!)
My niggas make noise like a bunch of volcanoes eruptin' (Hah!)
None of y'all niggas really want a war!
The type of nigga to crash my plane in your building in the name of Allah!

Flipmode Squad! Here to drop bombs
Against all odds! Still remain gods
Grip your arms! We always come hard
The world is ours! Call a National Guard