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Correct Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad Lyrics
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Artists: F
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Funkmaster Flex
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Correct Freestyle - Busta Rhymes & Flipmode Squad
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Lyrics:
[Busta Rhymes] Flip Mode, Funk Flex Volume 3! [Rampage] It's like battle of the stars, spittin' bars Foreign cars, never been to Mars I'm the wizard of Oz, down to the yellow brick road Flip Mode! Yo, we got this shit blowed 98 platinum an' the gold I'm a dissector, 15 on the richter Yo they owe me publishin' at Elektra Don't let the Ramp wretch ya, I'm-a catch ya My squad bring the pressure, new trend setter Watch me get this cheddar, my life is gettin' better, wha! [Baby Sham] Let me find out niggaz poppin' shit from the mouth Post-ponin' some two macs that's spittin' from the holsters You feel this 'cause you chose this I split wigs like the ocean, respect Moses More clips to spit, Flip Mode runnin' this shit So bounce to this, rollie on wrist My platinum shit half wit' sin See me in the club by the door bulgin' in Rockin' the lin, my waves spin tight, dark skin Baby Sham spittin' all in the mix on foul blends Unhh... Uhhh... Chorus: [Busta] What ya'll niggaz wanna do right now? [Flip Mode] We wanna do it again, we wanna do it again [Busta] I.. Say... What my Flip Mode unit wanna do now? [Flip Mode] We wanna do it again, again again and again [Busta] I... Say... Do that shit [Flip Mode] I say do that shit [Busta] Uh-do that real live shit [Flip Mode] Uh do that real live shit! [Busta] You know we comin' through shit [Flip Mode] You know we comin' thru shit [Busta] Ay-yo we here to rule shit! [Flip Mode] Ay-yo we here to rule shit! [Rah Digga] What?! You like the hooptie that ain't been test driven I say fresh spittin', less stricken and cess ridden, what? Watch 'mira' mack the steez Then I cut a bitch clean like I was Latin Queens Digga on the track watch the sales quadruple Flex like I'm feelin' it, red like my poo-poo! Some shit with Fendi type galoshes On some Rah-shit wit' real estate where the Taj is Fuckin' with the Outz on the pre-product Had this other click once but they reefer sucked Well, time to blaze watch how I swing 'cause I be mad like Max and merciless like Ming [Spliff Star] Interception, throw the microphone in my direction Let me step to these pussies raw dog wit' no protection Strokin' dem until they bleed and they can't breathe Run up in they click with ten terrorizing theives Ya'll niggaz is twat, my squad form like swat Spliff Star comin' through ya like it or not High off pot, make it hot like a coke plot Refuse to lose, we keeps the flock, I'm earnin' my props, what! Chorus [Lord Have Mercy] Ay-yo fuck dem and everything they love on this Earth Keep 'em runnin' from birth til' the jet black bubble cris Hurst And run a stick turf wit' double his purse Hustlin' curse like pastors who got guns in the church Ones in the church... Hmmm... Rum in the church Dark, kissin' a worm til' they jugular burst Speak last rites then kick the dust on them first Kemosabe! Your arms too short to box with me (For-geddit) Call shots wit' me (for-geddit) Laugh now cry later, I kill beef like mad cow My rhyme blaze up for nine acres... [Busta Rhymes] ... Get lucci, sport Gucci and stack papers Tell me what's wrong nigga got yo face bent up Beats fuck your head up even got yo mind messed up Step up, I love when bitches get fly and dress up (Ha! What!) You best believe I (Ha!) tear the rest up When you finish clean the mess up, press up Metaphor acid burn yo chest up Who's the next up to be the fool to get the boxcutter X-er Throwin' me off, you still be in labor, turn Funkmaster Flex-uh! [Chorus:] [Funkmaster Flex] ... Yeah, aaight? Busta Rhymes, Flip Mode Squad! 60 minutes! Flavor... Big shout to Monica for understandin' how The Funk flex... Yeah... What the deal.
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