Flipmode Squad - Straight Spittin

Текст песни DJ Tony Touch & DJ Khaled - Flipmode Squad - Straight Spittin

[Intro: Rampage]
Straight Spittin'
Flipmode Squad
The Imperial

[Verse 1: Rampage]
I'll bust all you cats in the game for malpractice
I'm in Jersey, where I'm paying no taxes
I'll stick your girl, Agnus, Flipmode bring the madness
Platinum status, Rampage I'm the baddest
Check the credit, yo you might as well dead it
I said it, fuck the edit, it's uncut
Nigga what, it's crunch time for me to shine
I'm a show you easily for me to take mines
Pass my nickel plated nine, call me Einstein
I buck a shot two times and stick you for your rhyme
Put you in a pine box, yo' and your whole family's on detox
Hustling crack for Reeboks
Holy socks, cut you with my ox
Rampage got the city locked
And your function, to the Flat Bush junction
Causing rambunction, watch me do you something

[Verse 2: Baby Sham]
Baby Sham on some new shit, new and exclusive
5'3", caramel, tight grip on a four fifth
Leave em all stiff, blow smoke from this foul drift
Nigga with the 6 story, throw em off the cliff
As I speak the shit to put my name on the list
The small thug with a slug put a mark on his wrist
A tattoo of pyramids, putting hollows in clips
Peeped your gat, jammed tight, Ross your lookin to riff
QB's type shit, cause we running your clique
See me in the drop, with your six, saying she snitched
But never that, cuz-o, high beam through the windows
My lookouts move slow, they heard you never blast those
Got a safe in your crib, sham, you know the code
Search, spoke out, 3, 2, 1, that's zero
Took the c-notes and flip mode left on the quietest note
Swallowed these then cleared your throat, bitch ass, you should have spoke
[Verse 3: Busta Rhymes]
*GIMMIE AN F*, fuck the bullshit, fire my gun
Fly a nigga head, fuck it for fun fuck where you from
*GIMMIE AN L*, layin on beaches, killin all leeches
Love to break a liar face, pick up the pieces, yo
*GIMMIE AN I* Intelligence eliminates all irrelavance
Icon of immaculate rhyme common sense
*GIMMIE A P* Powerful professional poppin my pistol
Make a pack of people paranoid like 20 pitbulls
*GIMMIE AN M* Master of all missions, maker of decisions
Head on collisions, massacre the meat rack, ask the women
*GIMMIE AN O* Got niggas open, open heart surgery
Rhyme so official, overthrow governments, shit is nursery
*GIMMIE A D* Diggin my dick all inside your chick
Dominate the heavyweight division rhymin district
*GIMMIE AN E* everlasting slang, eternal ebonics
Lyrical e-mail, stabalize livin in all my economics
*SQUAD* Group of men, women, unified force, squadron
Movin like one in unison, beg your pardon

[Verse 4: Rah Digga]
What they call me, a hundred on a Harley
Out of nowhere and keep you resurfacing like Brawley
Marley! I'm the bitch with the histo
Woody Woodpecker or L.L. at the Bristol
Official stand, hold it down in Trent
Then link up at the tunnel with the rest of my camp
Paper like Meade, I'm in the mix like Speed
And be screaming on the mic 'til my tonsils bleed
Yeah that's the way it is like when a kid get christened
Like comin to the bricks to find your whip missing
Rocking uptown, on down to west Howston
Houston, peace to my bitches that's boosting
After juicing, I'm a straight black ball a rapper
Tap a nigga's nerves like them hackers
Be going on the modem, I get the call from the dispatcher
Then show them motherf'ers what I'm after
[Verse 5: Spliff Starr]
Yo I back slap a wack mc for trying to be
Something he not, pull his card, blow up his spot
Nigga talking bout murder but ain't committing one
Niggas talking bout gats but ain't busting one
Yo, I see you in the club portraying like you a thug
Yea, your man got a gat, but he ain't busting no slug
You's a local black spokesman, I split your front open
Vicious knife wound, fucked up like Ron Goldman
Spliff, I spit, fully equipped for any bullshit
Grew up with the bad and ugly, quick to pull shit
Ignorant, vulgar, on your tape recorder
Idol to your son and probably lover to your daughter
Fatman son, wilted grandson
(?) nephew, Frank the cousin
*Uh huh, one more time, uh huh, Spliff, come on*
Bust my gun, like Colombians
Make niggas collapse like fucked up lungs

[Verse 6: Lord Have Mercy]
Better obey the law of the land or lay still like soldiers of fortune in Nam
Closed coffin with flags folded in half
Triangular shape, blow out the candles with grace
For fabulous tastes, some will battle for space
Pay the ultimate price, poltergeist
Put the holy ghost in your life, bring you closer to Christ
Focus your dice, when the vulture's in flight
Resculpture the mic, then smash heads like the opium bite
Prophet in vein, Metropolis claim body and soul
ID's controlled in the optical frame
Never stopping the game, remove your squad with steady plans
I body slam punks like Superstar Billy Gramm
[Outro: Busta Rhymes]
Straight spittin...word is bond...Flip Mode Squad...Striaght Spittin...Lyrical
Ass Whippin...We straight Spittin....