(Rah-Digga)   I be the worst like Nick   To all them mc thugs   Like them 4 little kids   And the teacher gettin plugged   I don't give a fuck style   Tell me come jiggy   I rock kix and swishees   Coppin moet wit 2 counterfeit 50's   What?   Dirty girl rhyme spit mucous   Speech uncoothe   And raise the roof like Lukas   12 years done rocked through all phases   Watch your peeps scream the bitch was the blazest      (Spliff Starr)   Niggas run they mouth about my click   Not smart   I bust your bloodclot   Then drop you upon the sidewalk   (Chi-chi-chi-Blow!!!)   Hit ya ass wit a vicious blow   You know my style   Spliff the foul   Through your stereo   Spliff Starr ignorant immigrant   I'm gettin it   Money, fast car, fine broads, what   I'm hittin it (that's right)   Raw shit i'm spittin it   At you and yours   Make you feel the pain nigga   Like the dick to your balls   Thug blood fluid   Pumpin in the face of my music   Drop the street shit   Watch the whole world rock to it   Nigga Squad!!!      (Baby Sham)   Squad had em opin   Had his bitch scopin   Sittin by the bar   Sippin Heinken's totein   Pinky rings glowin   Triple beams to the club   My man is half thug   Giving me pound and holdin grudge   Feelin my shit   So I can put a lock on your clik   Your style is past tense   Hold on, Hold on   You just started rappin   Ever since you heard the shit   We fuckin wit it's platinum   Slow your growth   Stop the show   Go at you both   Hit you with more bars than soap    Sham is the name   Feelin invain   Fiendin for dope   (Buckshot)   Yeah, you know we got cha opin!!!      Hook:   Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid   Yo, stop frontin, you know we got cha opin kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid   Stop frontin, you know we got cha opin kid      (Ramoage)   Niggas made me mad   And now I wanna clap shit (Uh)   I reign supreme in this muthafuckin rap shit   I lost my mind   I can't get it back   The way that I'm spittin, yo   I spit ya fuckin wig back   Don't front, my squad got you opin   Hit you with a buck fifty   Here's a token   Ramp is smokin   I'm no joke and   I leave your face broken   This is survival of the fittest   Get wit us   All you critics and bullshitters   My nine goes bang   I'm talkin street slang   I'm reppin Flipmode   Plus I'm doing my thang   On the side   We won't let it ride   Nigga don't hide      (Lord Have Mercy)   Landlord innovator   Switch lanes no indicator   The general, cash generator   Master and saviour   Nigga stay massive in nature   When tooth shatter ya die bone   In the savage cyclone of cops, sirens, and cases   Who read the bible for basics?   When I'm crooked eye with rivals   Horizontal in God's places   Suspicious of all   Now who dat???   Quick on the draw   Lick a paw   For loved ones blood runs cold in the winter wars   Check the criminal thoughts   Villains warp with the invisible force   Know the ledge   Stay focused like photo lens   And spread wings like Cobra heads   Till I'm old and dead      (Busta)   Hot shit, toxic   You know we blocks shit   Traffic in the streets system   All in your jeep knocks shit   Julio for no reason back the fifth   And he cocks it   Rock shit, we make niggas mad   And wanna pop shit   Massive and attractive   Niggas is captive   Chemotherapy needed   Lyrics radioactive   When I hit hard   It get my dick hard   In my backyard   Analyze the stars   On how to defeat all odds   In a new zone   I'm on a new phone   Make most of the wackest rapper niggas   Wanna find a new home   Like Rasco jeans   My style flip two-tone   Pass my blue chrome   Here's one of the best of Busta Rhymes own   My debut made you   Wonder who   Shit blazes so much   You wish you could play out   So you could blaze, too   Before I shout you   Or give reason to doubt you   I study shit and re-analyze everything about you   My rhymes on the preserve   Niggas know we deserve    Everything up in your stash and in the reserve   Fuck that!!!   Hook up all my lyrics on the echos and the re-verbs   Never fuck with these herbs   My squad remains superb      (Buckshot)   (Heh) Walkin thru the streets   Undercovers follow us, stress   Muthafuckas on the regular to bust    Trust us   We don't get enough   Nigga wha-what?   Dirty baggy jeans   Black napsack with something for ya gut   Wooly-type skully   Fully strapped, black bulletproof, and match   Quick,   Whip up a batch   Of bullets to blow up the map   Shit   Collapse, perhaps doing this in the raps   In the long time, ya trapped   Buck make em react   God verse attack   Let em know the moon is still black   And it's a fact...      Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid   Yo stop frontin, ya know we got cha opin   Don't front, you know we got cha opin, yo   Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid   Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid   Yo stop frontin, you know we got cha opin      Huh, word life   Mad niggas opin   Yeah, word life   Flipmode, muthafuckin Buckshot   Mad niggas scopin   Buck to ya brain!!!!!