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