Packin' Them Things

[Intro: Busta Rhymes]

This sound like some music from mother fucking Fat Albert show and shit

You know what I mean?

Sound like the organs from Fat Albert nigga

What's going on here?

[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]

Look

I be the most incredible, alphabetical unforgettable

God of the spit, that's why I talk shit

Phenomally pursuing most of the heads of most of you niggas

That's why I be the friction and I spark shit

And while you sporadically notice who's the don man

Exploding hoods to emphatically burned farm land

Ha

Niggas asking me not to do it sire

Knowing embalming fluid is mixed with my saliva

Need me to move the Maybach, holler at my driver

I'm still voting for Obama despite a couple of priors

I pay you niggas no mind, you a bunch of (?) liars

Now how the frenzy going to stop this

Cause I bring it back like (?) boxes

While I continue to lock this

Pop this off

And then

Drop this on

Every single hood I target

And then corner the market

Stop this homes

You can't watch this

The way I shit on beats and then I fart bitch

I paint lyrical pictures like beautiful art bitch

Trust me

I don't think you wanna start bitch

[Hook: Busta Rhymes]

(I stay packing them things)

Well I give it to niggas everytime

You know its Busta Rhymes

(I stay packing them things)

If a nigga test me when I'm in the hood

I wish a nigga would

(I stay packing them things)

Its Flipmode bitch

We got a Santa Claus bag full of goodies

(I stay packing them things)

With a cargo of dudes in the van

Face covered up with hoodies

(I stay packing them things)

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]

I ain't even get to rolling my sleeves up

While I'm fucking a whore like I'm fucking a bitch weave up

Sizzle the street and I ain't even beginning to heat up

Like watching a bum fight how niggas get lyrically beat up

Its Flipmode bitch I love how the game need us

While I'm in Costa Rica

Chilling in a villa with my feet up

You know I love to eat up

Whack mother fuckers

Especially when I get munchies after smoking the weed up

And bust niggas heads 'til they catch convulsions and bleed out

Or bitches get excited and they start staining my seats up

See how I light the streets up

Niggas talk tough when this noise around the music

Too loud you need to speak up

Everyday you know I'm knowing

And I constantly be showing motherfuckers how to do it the right way

Every now and then I might play

And show a nigga what it is

And how I handle biz

You might have caught me on a white day

So don't ever shoot a subliminal on my balls

You're probably better off battling Jacob in a fight club

And make me pop the right slug

But its nothing niggas know I'm one of the greatest

Thanks to Joe Budden

[Hook: Busta Rhymes]

(I stay packing them things)

Well I give it to niggas everytime

You know its Busta Rhymes

(I stay packing them things)

If a nigga test me when I'm in the hood

I wish a nigga would

(I stay packing them things)

Its Flipmode bitch

We got a Santa Claus bag full of goodies

(I stay packing them things)

With a cargo of dudes in the van

Face covered up with hoodies

(I stay packing them things)