[Hook (shortened)-Busta Rhymes]
All my niggas all my bitches
Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool
You know my style, get crunk
Bitches bounce niggas bounce
And let me give you that funk shit blunt shit
[Verse 1-Ras Kass]
I spit that, super ugly, take over ether
Talk from my urethra and piss out the speaker
Beef cocking the heater, meet greet and defeat ya
The glitch in the matrix busting’ nuts on (zeta?)
Add insult to injury when I see ya
Like Ike buying his ex-wife Tina
White wife-beaters, YNV the Louie Vuitton stripes on my Kobe to Adidas
Red wine and Vicodin and break your motherfucking FEMA
Team of, the future, Golden State, NWA 2K Trey, hold-up wait
We bubble two if we fucking wit you, blow that eight
Just fifty get with me bitch hit me like boo
Just stick me, slick risky but true
Keep my money on my mind (mind)
My mind on my grind
My grind on my nine I put that on my mama
It gotta, Rock in the ring (bigger than what)
Bigger than WWE Smackdown
So fuck karat’s (carrots) chain got rabbits
Same bad habits
Aim to live lavish so back down
[Hook-Busta Rhymes]
All my niggas all my bitches
Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool
You know my style, get crunk
Bitches bounce niggas bounce
And let me give you that funk shit blunt shit
While a nigga bang outcha trunk
[Bridge 1-Dina Rae]
Street-slang ought to talk a lotta
Tell police sirens and coppers
Club pack cause the beat is hotter
If you go real deep than Imma
[Verse 2-Ras Kass]
Bid your whole, over style
So what you know about
Pass the Courvoisier, Busta show me how
Canary-yellow diamond, the Goldyn Chyld
Bitch play like a jock strap on hard dicks and hold me down
Pound-for-pound, I spit rounds the sickest (gold pound)
In case foes forget whose artwork is the quickest
‘Cause when I draw, huh, ain’t to paint the town red
I’m too sexy to be dead
‘Bout to sell a couple million units
Host MTV, renegotiate for 1.3
Put the babies through college
Then expose how many of you so-called rap stars is garbage
And that’s logic, Doc Dre got us
Grow some more than movies about spiders, Jedis, and hobbits
Hip-hop’s hottest
Can’t front, I’m not as modest
But promise, to spread over this bread like Blue Bonnet (holla)
[Hook]
[Bridge 2-Dina Rae]
Nothing but the heat and put it (RK: hop in ya)
Strictly for the street and put it
[Interlude-Ras Kass]
Out the cut
Doc Dre
Ras Kass
Bus-A-Buss
(BR: All my bitches)
Dr. Dre-“Whoopty Whoop, Nigga what”
[Verse 3-Ras Kass]
I walk on mouse traps just for the cheese
Can’t fuck with a chick 'less you giving her three bees
Back-rubs, blow jobs, and breakfast in bed
But rather Bill Gates and get breaded instead
Fly nigga, vocally, he ain't as dope as me
My shit don’t stank, bitch please, I piss popery
You know how it supposed to be, in your City high
Rubbing the thighs of Claudette Ortiz
[Bridge 1]
[Hook (2X)]
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