Verse 1: Spliff Star Yeah Heh A Flipmode y'all (x4) Hah Heh Hahahaha Yo Yo, Uh I spits rhymes for thug cats Neighborhood drug rats Hardcore Keep it raw What Niggaz love that Stack the greenbacks And stay steady with the weed sack Spliff Star one of the famous foreigners >From East Flat-Bush Fire arms till you no longer breather black Make it hot Standin on the corner wit the G-Pack Look at me Lampin in defiance wit my seats back Got the game to fuck wit ?Jane? where you and her sleep at Verse 2: Rah Digga Lyrically inclined And inclined to get lyrical Checkin for residuals Rhymin be the ritual Ill individual Bad habitat Watch my voice battle cats While i'm spittin battle raps On the high horse And i keep my saddle strapped You'd be headin up the river like 'where the paddle at?' Got a rhyme overload Rah Digga always front ya Leavin niggaz stuck like I was accupuncture Chorus: Got niggaz from the hood Thinkin shit all good I'm askin all y'all WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!!! Got niggaz outta town Tryin to come and be down I'm askin all y'all WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!!! Got niggaz online Think they fuckin wit mine I'm askin all y'all WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!!! I'm askin all y'all WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!!! I'm askin all y'all WATCHA COME AROUND HERE FO!!! Verse 3: Baby Sham It makes alot of sense When you see Sham in black Benz With high friends Pull up the club wit dark tints Never jump out Thats why they lookin dead in my mouth They must have doubts Like who the stars wit no lookouts You'd be amazed and surprised to who would run in your house And tag their names on the stomach of your pregnant spouse I shall leave you wit dat BIB from QB Boys In Black And foul attitudes to match Verse 4: Busta Rhymes Yo Now who you be god I be the soul controller I burst gas like the fizz outta your Coca Cola Live shit like the energy of solar With thug niggaz wit names like Bullet Head and Cobra Street niggaz be feelin the nights gettin cold, the rock Bear skin furs like Australian polar Hang up on whack bitches who call the Motorolla And smack faggots like you don't make me have ta show ya Chorus Verse 5: Rampage Ramp i'm not talkin son I'm comin out clappin All you whack niggaz be poppin shit y'all niggaz actin Flipmode number 1 squad that make shit happen I'm rippin down shit while y'all other niggaz slackin Money cats is stocked and locked plus I'm stackin Them grimy niggaz rollin with me Them niggaz packin Bust 4 in your face pop 4 in your back and 8 bullets total in all I'm street trackin Verse 6: Rocky Marciano 2 for my block like 10 in the mornin Squish your organs like Swiss scheese whippin the arm And flava blaze I play the corner Wake up your neighbors wit my tape in order to feel my aura Mauziano I'm like a silver Tzar holdin golden Metal & dough I hold my arm swollen On the farm belong for soldiers I control is like they seein Moses Fiendin for flows I pose to split you open Layin back rappers for motion picture me slap on my rappin boots Chorus Verse 7: Lord Have Mercy The earth is the globe Where I work my magic like Merlin unfold Surface enclosure Life worthless no goals Perfect controls Like Ayatola's turbans and robes From the counties of kings Bails, bounties, pissie lobbies 50 armies Probably bring hell on this earth Legend of dirt Smash ghettos & General's turf Menace incredible work Land Lord blaze him and gave him the dirt Hah Chorus
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