Let's Make A Toast

[Intro: Roc Marciano]

Yeah, wassup?

Roc Marc', whatup?

Flipmode y'all

Easy Mo, whatup baby?

One love, kid

Bless me on this track right here

Wu-Tang baby, whatup?

Rock' Marc' representin yea

Feature baby

[Roc Marciano]

Yo, yo

Testimonial flow, ceremonial head on the trophy, nigga

Tryin to ghost me, froze like frozen meat, the mosey on down

So low key, load up the soldier beat, diplomacy blow up the freestyles

Written or sold release, supposed to be wild

Some low-key shit, police stick, BLAOW!

Suffer the bust of your meat, that ain't the least of it

The beast is a dick, freakin this, believin this, the secret is

Beat at this so we can live and feed the kids

You get your feet off kid, don't spring a leak at this

Cuz in these streets, king of New York, stee

Like Biggie Smalls was this all good I could see

Sit on my political strength, like Merill Lynch

Thorough be my orchids, read your book

Defence thee, speed off the word

Magic, magic, marker thirsty, have to sling crack

Stack a fortune, back from off of me Lord

Slow the fuck up, snuggle behind me tryin to blind-side me

We sippin wine and feelin high and mighty

While Irish Rose, when I'm livin in the show

Somehow I know, and want that white beast to bring a blow, yo

[Hook: Busta Rhymes]

You just smoked, nigga

Till ya choke, my nigga

Violating get your fuckin face broke, my nigga

Strive for the most til we all gross, my nigga

Rep for all my dogs from coast to coast, my nigga

Let's make a toast, mo' money

Let's make a toast, my nigga

Let's make a toast, nigga

Let's make a toast

[Busta Rhymes]

We be the high post niggas who rocks the most niggas

Who pops the toast niggas, who drops the most hittas

Possessed one of the most venomous tongues

Lyrics is bio-hazardous, bite the forbidden shit, get disasterous

My mathematics too difficult for niggas to figure out like calculus

Unpredictable flow be miraculous

Funny niggas study, while y'all smoke in your nine blunts

And figure how we'll be doin it for the next nine months

Spit a million bars, that you wonder where the hook at

More sparklin shit to look at, now where the jooks at?

Climb the success ladder of the most successful crook cats

Down Memory Lane with a thousand grams of cook crack

Every now and then I look back, sometimes I put back

For once millionaire niggas, who's strive to get their look back

Clean up a local hoodrat, make sure that kids, they turnin their school books

Got thrown to pay to get their books back

In the meantime I hold a good stack, and do the observation

To reassure my motzerella conversation

Witness, have a soul, business now

We the benefactors of this whole shit, we in this now

Yo, my niggas feel how we consistently spit fire

Or get shattered and splattered if they caught up in a cross-fire

You know we give it to y'all, livin for y'all

And when we blow shit, you know we did it for y'all

[Hook]

[Raekwon]

Eh yo, bright, add on, mad-hatter with a rag on

No niggas cause God to spaz on

Major hieroglyphics, blood thirst, merchants up to nurtzes

Gun shot Kennedy down, we workin black churches

Spit fire, Bailey's with the tastle

Rastle of the last capsule, you ain't sellin if you natural

Underwater boat in the lake, we five boroughed out

Grace started rally, start barrel on the stage, yo

My IV on, drop a teaspoon with receivin like

Herald on a balloon, start twirlin in saloons du'

Spray up a galaxy, with hot wax, no consilary ax

Similar to John, worthy of the cracks, duke

About to blossom and deminish shit

Staten Island twist this, sublinder, relentless, Schindler's List

Grill in my shines, fly Nike's on

Shallah invite me on, yellin in the twell, "what the fuck he on?"

Just a taste of this, bass gracisness, yo

Lay on the floor, sayin prayer, your reward one

Holdin me hon', controllin me hon'

Your chore, check out the Roley dunn

[Hook]

[Chip Banks]

When you hear the slow breathin

That is the cat from Mally Gramp camp out to say somethin intriguin

Man I spit a rhyme that's hot to death

And stop ya breath, pop in this cassette then nod your neck

Y'all know y'all been blessed with the God Banky, Baby, I rhyme greatly

Smash your crew, don't have me spit a rash at you

My cash'll do, diver chief will blast at you

You bastards, you be heavy hittas, and y'all niggas

'll love to get rid of us, but our cash flows so ridiculous

You take pictures and snap shots even of Mr. Santana

In the drop Jag, with the cop mag squeezin

Haters on the side eyein hopin that I crash the whip for no reason

When the drama comes, the white flags, they bring them out

Stupid pricks they don't know what's this thing be 'bout

Better change your route, 'fore I have to mash your mouth

Or get your arm all twisted out like Steve Stout's

Let them cowards try to come between this thing of our's

See how fast I turn them fake hard rocks back to flowers

Here's a word from your sponsor, Banky ruley marka

Number one Cream Teama, I flow meana

[Hook 2X]