[Intro]
Yeah, where you think you goin. Where you think you goin
Ladies and gentlemen, it's the unit for the 9-8
Flipmode Squad baby. That's my word
All you sucker mc's, try to hide this stuff. Come back here
Where you think you goin, nigga. Come back here
Y'all niggas ain't seein Jack. Shit!!!
[Verse 1: Baby Sham]
Aiiyo, speak the truth
Too short to let it hurt. Some talk dirt, and be the first slangin hertz
Freestylin of the hum of the birds
Fall back when I shine on my shine, two shows follow behind
It's a fucked up vehicle. Switchin my lines
Hotel asks a nigga: "Could I share my dimes"
Picture that, when you scared to draw toes
Playin me close
Rollin with the dogs wearin yesterdays clothes
Left a fouled sin into my squad without permition
I started dissin, hopin you listen. Pay attention
Fatheresly. The shadow leads you back to the hood
You wanna switch up because some niggas stalked you up
Or is the fact that they thought you was rollin with us
Left you all draged, like two trains crashin it up
[Verse 2: Spliff Starr]
Aiiyo, Spliff Starr drama, bullpen personna
Type of nigga that would sell crack to your mama
Take the cash you gave me and buy marijuana
Check me boy and some turbo ‘pon de corner
Back in the days I bubble drugs like a sauna
Make a pussy boy kill himself like Nirvana
Get'em like goose feathers, cold weather rock the bamma
Lie in front of the jury, D. A., and Your Honor
I represent street niggas, carry heat niggas
Play for keeps niggas, ain't nothin 'bout me sweet, niggas
I stay token, gun butt your skull open
If you fuck wit my squad nigga where you think you goin?
[Chorus]
Where you think you goin
Where you think you goin
Aiiyo, what you doin nigga
Where you think you goin
Where you think you goin
Where you think you goin
Aiiyo, what you movin for
Where you think you goin
Where you think you goin
Where you think you goin
Aiiyo, what you doin nigga
Where you think you goin
[Verse 3: Busta Rhymes]
You think that you can run (ha)
You think that you can hide (haa)
You best believe you still comin. I think you better slide
While you stay bitchin, another nigga missin
Bodies snatch you up.! Behold the cream
Cought in hells kitchen. My trigger fingers itchin
Nervous system's fucked up
That's why my nerves twitchin
Inslave your mentality. Nigga brain fried
We after you, runnin sergeon for a free ride
Where you think you goin son?
We gon' catch you soon
We here to take over this shit
Pour the tycoon
Blossom and gloom. Capture any nigga sober in a little dark room
Ha ha ha ha ha
[Verse 4: Rah Digga]
Uh oh. You lil league boy I know your beats
You sound bullshitely, You rock
Swearin you to ball, when you know you're wack
In a studio settin of a reverands track
Boy! Rah gets busy, my shit be way slaver
Curder rapper Ernest like the one slave labour
One first be like the bitch tap oil
Loyal to my niggas. Enemies are fucked around, and riders rappin for you
Spot stays blowin. Goin' to the top
Where you think you're goin
Pocket stay throwin. Smooth like the lowin
Rap chick flowin
Where you think you're goin
[Chorus]
[Verse 5: Rampage]
I'm a hard man at work
Lyrical expert
Look out before you get hurt
Bury the dirt. Line for line
Ramp I be the mastermind
That's be full time watch me shine
I know the seven sign
I'm rich, and still life is a bitch
Losin' snitch like camey fake beggar
Jim Baker. I take you're life like the undertaker
Flipmode money-maker, make that kill for this paper
It's on the poppin
People wanna know when the album droppin
Start talkin. Keep walkin
Flatbush New York and we live for you
Sling for you
My squad struck oil
Now we coppin platinum things
Diamond rings. Nice cosy things
And a party for free
From the tunnel to envy
Ramp's the rugged mc
My squad ke! Eps growin
Where you think you goin
[Verse 6: Lord have Mercy]
Chief gunnin to
Splash rain potters pooves
Fuck is you. Start stand peach
Chuff for choose
Scoffer booves
Now low muscles moves
Smash crew like statue with jungle jewels
Son gets school, wit the dummin crew
Pay double dues. Cradle to the graves, hustle grooves
Flesh tissue. Death kiss you. No love for you
Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh
And me the most wanted fool
Unfriendly in horrical, make power moves
Snatch colors loose. A dollar rule
Raw business shit in my hands, and shakes yours with it
Till you cause fridget
Local or long distance
Gets master served
And crash a burn
Like James Evans when I'm blowin
Fuck is wrong wit cha
Where you think you're goin
Where you think you're goin
Where you think you're goin
Chorus (*Fades*)
Featured lyrics