C'mon, yeah, villain
C'mon, alright?
I got this side right here
Take this side right there
C'mon do this
Busta Bus
C'mon, alright?
C'mon (here we go) staying street

Paws, to the wall, with the dirty dog, raw rap-ture
If you ain't with it bite crotch til it break your jaw
(Your jaw) For trying to knock us
Trying to kill or stop us, jack our propers
Busta Bus, they faking, the cake is for the taking
While they running they face, I'm letting the plan bake
Formulate, now look at the plot, we got
more and more shit that's hot, show to rock the spot
Clock or knot, nigga the whole pot
Ready or not, we coming, snatching every comer
with ya hoe in the Benz-O, dumbing like a motherfucker

You can be my lady, you could even be my lollipop sucker
The road dog baby coming like the mad trucker
Lot of jealous niggas looking funnier than Chris Tucker
God bless, oh yes, I stay fresh
Full of finesse, my congress show progress
Stylish, hit you with the shit to digest
In this rhyme shit we be some of the world's finest
Your Highness, leaving corny niggas spineless
Attack it with the classic rhyme flow timeless (ha ha)

Not a problem my squad can't fix
Cause we can do, it in the mix
So when you niggas talk trash, you can get a bust ass
Cause you know we don't fuck around
When you niggas talk shit, lay ya six feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground
When you niggas talk shit, lay ya six feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground

This is how we ride, throw your hands from side to side
It's party time, and don't forget get yours, cause I'ma get mine
(Who that?) The villain til I'm peeling a million
Riding dirty, and busting like thirty-thirty, til a nigga end
Knowing that the shit is fucked I'm still here to win (what?)
Cheddar (uh) if you ain't about it then I think you better
hang the little plot you got, don't sweat it main
My nigga, my life's uncut like Kane, real "Raw"
Y'all don't know shit about Jamal or what I'm in it for:
cash, cars, fly whores and tours
Filling my pipe, with no messes and no limits
Them other one scrimping, has the tent froze frigid
Fraud as a gimmick, dick licking chasing chickens
I mash for the cash with the click and
rip a show then I'm dipping in the whip and high tripping

While y'all niggas hopping and skipping I stick the clip in, yo
Accelerate on the gas, move fast
Blast, find a nigga FOOT in your ass
Colorful niggaz, just peep the whole contrast
Flipmode is the Squad, a news flash
Bust your shit up, what the fuck, nigga get up
Violate, niggas get they whole SHIT lit up!
Break fool, niggas know the rules, rob jewels
Champagne bath, throw the Mo-et in the pool
Nigga caught a motherfucking strain on the brain
riding on the train, I'ma whip a Benz in the rain
Over sized click on the rise so realize we be
Them niggas that dead up all you funny little small fries
The franchise, Flipmode damaging all of you "Fall Guys"
Yo I'm tired of niggas they full of "True Lies"
No time, we got the right surprise
Need a new beginning, need to get a baptize
Ha ha, you need to get a baptize
Word is bond, hey yo

Not a problem my squad can't fix
Cause we can do, it in the mix
So when you niggas talk trash, you can get a bust ass
Cause you know we don't fuck around
When you niggas talk shit, lay ya six feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground
When you niggas talk shit, lay ya six feet under the ground,
ground ground, ground ground

Ground, a-ground, a-gr-gr-ground-ground
Just party to the shit like this c'mon
Just bounce to the motherfucking beat c'mon
You niggas don't know my brand new song c'mon
Hey yo, hear me out y'all,
Yo, and just feel my shit
C'mon bounce what the fuck?

Writer : CLEVELAND, MIKE/SMITH, TREVOR/PHILLIPS, JAMAL T S
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.