Die Too Soon

[Intro: DJ Quik]

Compton's in the motherfuckin' house

Look

[Verse 1: DJ Quik & Busta Rhymes]

Now Busta-Bust he like the David Blane of hip-hop (Come here just watch)

And X to the Z, a backpacker, y'all niggas stop (Yo, yo)

We asphalt, not clay, not dust (Yo)

I put my money where my mouth is, y'all just trust (Ooh)

This a real game, motherfuckers, and I'm playing this well (Yeah)

I'm an analog, you a hologram, you ain't that real (Yo, yo)

You ain't the truth, you ain't even know how to begin

The real fly game swatter, you can't win

I've been PI since I was knee-high (Yup)

Spending money since 4 years old

Let the truth be told (Yo, yo)

Y'all proof, pull the sunroof

When I bubble, it's an overflow

Left and right wrist like overload

Now I'm 5'4" nigga (Vroom), double R right

I'm rough on the boulevard (Yeah), I do it hard (Yo, yo) even with a hit on my head

I still shine, spit on the red

I'm fly, nigga, 'til I'm bred and I'm dead, yeah

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

So tell 'em welcome back to one of these

Niggas know that they fucking around with real Gs

Who you think you are?

Bass heavy all in my truck

That be the gangster shit, I stay banging up in my car

Shot the front nigga, you fuck around and just make a nigga cock up and I clap up the broom

Act dumb and you can be one of the young niggas that your peeps be saying "Die too soon"

Ayo (Flipmode nigga)

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]

When I step up in the club bitches trying to hug me

So sick baby mothers still trying to fuck me

See, we move past diesel like we stocking the [?]

I'm the nicest in this bitch, swamp cocky as fuck

Fuck rap, a lot of drug money stacking insane

Compton got a couple bricks from quick and gain

Thought a stomp and couple clicks to you niggas is lame

Like you could fuck with Aftermath, bitch I'll weaken your frame

Then I pumped y'all niggas bladder 'til we watching your piece build

Blood mixture killing niggas at free will

I say thou shit too immoral my brother

Throwing a bachelor party for my homie fucking your mother

So married to the game, bitch, whenever we build

My nigga Game, he like to spaz, I try to tell him to chill

Fuck you, see my goons will rush your resident fast

No matter how much dough you got, we whip the president ass

Break a bottle, cut your jugular, you niggas is dead

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]

So tell 'em welcome back to one of these

Niggas know that they fucking around with real Gs

Who you think you are?

Bass heavy all in my truck

That be the gangster shit, I stay banging up in my car

Shot the front nigga, you fuck around and just make a nigga cock up and I clap up the broom

Act dumb and you can be one of the young niggas that your peeps be saying "Die too soon"

Flipmode

[Verse 3: The Game]

I don't do much, sit on the block in that Lavender Range

Waitin' for fiends, pass 'em the Caine

Y'all niggas is lame

Y'all don't really want beef with The Game, give 'em 100 thou, ease his pain

You don't ride through the hood

Motherfucker, that ain't your Navy 6

All you do is drive Jay-Z shit

Nigga you ain't hardcore

Nigga you ain't never won no award, only stood behind Dame when he was thanking the lord, you a fag

Nigga you know your rhymes ain't ill and State Property the closest you ever been to a mill, you ain't hot

With that wack ass album you drop

The whole Roc know Beans came and take your spot, you a joke

Tax write off for Russell and Hov, why you think they keep you around when you only went gold

Whoo Kid, let 'em know who put the B-I in bitch faggot couldn't sell a record with T.I. and Trick Daddy

Nigga talkin' that shit, I crush him and this ain't got nuttin' to do with Quik and Busta