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[Q-Tip] For real though who really got sent Flown on the edge got the ledge hangin' out of the window Bird chest niggas with you (wondrous fearaf?) Fuck around you'll be (hemp's meat) inside of a meal sack Puny little bucks better hit the Jake But that doesn't mean nothing to the heart within You cramped up you and your team I'm amped up And you asses can't dib me bead My shine what the fuck is on your mind? Little weakling rappers better hit the grind Other brothers ain't motivated they can't do it Not only did I penetrate it I ran through it My music comes on and we march at the dance Inside of your mind or inside of my pants? Musical intention that we have is vast You sick? Drink a NyQuil well I'm dead on your ass Oh well then here comes the gelatin Tips on some sugars but you yap on your selling friends Now your party is completely blown Real name is Kamal I'm in completely zone It's rap time for you that means nap time Preaching from my joint what the fuck I'ma clap mine Singing songs of 6 pence it's intense Surprise your ass at the end like the sixth sense Heavy hitters knocking shit out the park You couldn't even really play tell me why did you start Spitting sharp blades laced with bleach You wanna play around kid I'm not a walk at the beach A stroll in the park or your fucking playground Put on your headphones tell me how grenades 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 that bust gats Better let em in 'fore they rush that 'cause 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 'cause that's how we [Q-Tip] Get down [Q-Tip] Coming with the brand new quickly we pan to The young black man with intentions to ban you Seems that people need an aid today So many fade away so many fiend to stay I really rhyme 'cause I feel I should say things While the fraudulent act raps just so they cop rings Or maybe because when they was young They was fronted on and left alone to have they own fun Now they've all grown up to be assholes I'm giving you the rope will you tie up the lassos You swing dangling from peach trees While I sip my Daiquiris in the south west breeze Writing so exciting the pen it keeps Dripping out gems that's converted to hems and then People be humming it from now to they next to kin My family is starving You know they want me to win Me forfeit nigga please get off it Send a check in my name to my office Mutombo in the lane yo I toss it Abstract coming through witness the bullshit [Busta Rhymes] Hey yo, hey yo engineer cut the fucking beat off