[Q-Tip] for real though who really got sick
though on the edge got the ledge hangin' out
of the window bird chest niggas witcha
winderous fearaf fuck around you'll be against
me the size of a meal sack cutie little bucks
better hit the jake but that doesn't mean
nothin to the heart within you cramped up you
and your team I'm amped up and you asses can't
dip my B my shine what the fuck is on your
mind? Little weaklink rappers better hit the
grind Other brothers ain't motivated they
can't do it Not only the opposite train it I
ran through it My music comes on and we march
at the dance Inside of your mind or inside of
my pants? Use a cruel intention that we have
is bad You sick? Drink a NyQuil when I'm bed
on your ass Oh well then here comes the
gellatiin Tips on some sugars but you yap on
your sellin' friends Now your party is
completely blown Real name is Kamal I'll make
him peep his own It's rap time for you that
means nap time Preachin from my joint what the
fuck I'ma clap mine Singin songs in 6 pens with
sit tensed Surpised your ass is the end like
the sixth sense heavy hitters knockin shit out
the park you didn't even really play tell me
why did you start spittin sharp blades lakes
with bleach you wanna play around kid I'm not
a walk at the beach a stroll in the park or
your fuckin playground put on your headphones
and tell me how granades sound put on your
walkmase and go underneath the town Q-Tip
abstract how I gets down
Chorus: [Busta
Rhymes] All my bitches, dance if you know that
you dam sure Let your pussy drip on the dance
floor if you wanna [Q-Tip] get
down [Busta Rhymes] fuck that niggas will
bust gats better lit a make for their rush
that cuz they wanna [Q-Tip] get
down [Busta Rhymes] blick shit piano sick
shit [Q-Tip] get down [Busta
Rhymes] chill you can get off my dick
and [Q-Tip] get down [Busta
Rhymes] while I'm on the hook get on your good
foot and blow up the spot for all of you niggas
cuz that's how we [Q-Tip] get
down
[Q-Tip] comin with the brand new
quickly we pant to the young black man with
intentions to band you see that people need a
age in things so many paid their ways so many
phean to stay I really rhyme cuz I feel I
should say things By the fortualte act rap
just so they cop rings Or maybe because when
they was young They was fronted on a life
alone that have their own fun Now their all
grown up to be assholes I'm giving you the
rope will you tie talassels? You swing
dingaling for peas trees While I sip my
Dacarees in the south west breeze Writings so
exciting the pen it keeps Drippin out jings
that's converted to hems and them People be
hummin in formality next to kin My family is
starvin? You know they want me to win We
forfeit nigga please get off it Second checkin
my name to my office Mutombo in the lane yo I
toss it Abstract comin through witness
abortion
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