(Rah-Digga)
  I be the worst like Nick
  To all them mc thugs
  Like them 4 little kids
  And the teacher gettin plugged
  I don't give a fuck style
  Tell me come jiggy
  I rock kix and swishees
  Coppin moet wit 2 counterfeit 50's
  What?
  Dirty girl rhyme spit mucous
  Speech uncoothe
  And raise the roof like Lukas
  12 years done rocked through all phases
  Watch your peeps scream the bitch was the blazest
  (Spliff Starr)
  Niggas run they mouth about my click
  Not smart
  I bust your bloodclot
  Then drop you upon the sidewalk
  (Chi-chi-chi-Blow!!!)
  Hit ya ass wit a vicious blow
  You know my style
  Spliff the foul
  Through your stereo
  Spliff Starr ignorant immigrant
  I'm gettin it
  Money, fast car, fine broads, what
  I'm hittin it (that's right)
  Raw shit i'm spittin it
  At you and yours
  Make you feel the pain nigga
  Like the dick to your balls
  Thug blood fluid
  Pumpin in the face of my music
  Drop the street shit
  Watch the whole world rock to it
  Nigga Squad!!!
  (Baby Sham)
  Squad had em opin
  Had his bitch scopin
  Sittin by the bar
  Sippin Heinken's totein
  Pinky rings glowin
  Triple beams to the club
  My man is half thug
  Giving me pound and holdin grudge
  Feelin my shit
  So I can put a lock on your clik
  Your style is past tense
  Hold on, Hold on
  You just started rappin
  Ever since you heard the shit
  We fuckin wit it's platinum
  Slow your growth
  Stop the show
  Go at you both
  Hit you with more bars than soap
  Sham is the name
  Feelin invain
  Fiendin for dope
  (Buckshot)
  Yeah, you know we got cha opin!!!
  Hook:
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
  Yo, stop frontin, you know we got cha opin kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin kid
  Stop frontin, you know we got cha opin kid
  (Ramoage)
  Niggas made me mad
  And now I wanna clap shit (Uh)
  I reign supreme in this muthafuckin rap shit
  I lost my mind
  I can't get it back
  The way that I'm spittin, yo
  I spit ya fuckin wig back
  Don't front, my squad got you opin
  Hit you with a buck fifty
  Here's a token
  Ramp is smokin
  I'm no joke and
  I leave your face broken
  This is survival of the fittest
  Get wit us
  All you critics and bullshitters
  My nine goes bang
  I'm talkin street slang
  I'm reppin Flipmode
  Plus I'm doing my thang
  On the side
  We won't let it ride
  Nigga don't hide
  (Lord Have Mercy)
  Landlord innovator
  Switch lanes no indicator
  The general, cash generator
  Master and saviour
  Nigga stay massive in nature
  When tooth shatter ya die bone
  In the savage cyclone of cops, sirens, and cases
  Who read the bible for basics?
  When I'm crooked eye with rivals
  Horizontal in God's places
  Suspicious of all
  Now who dat???
  Quick on the draw
  Lick a paw
  For loved ones blood runs cold in the winter wars
  Check the criminal thoughts
  Villains warp with the invisible force
  Know the ledge
  Stay focused like photo lens
  And spread wings like Cobra heads
  Till I'm old and dead
  (Busta)
  Hot shit, toxic
  You know we blocks shit
  Traffic in the streets system
  All in your jeep knocks shit
  Julio for no reason back the fifth
  And he cocks it
  Rock shit, we make niggas mad
  And wanna pop shit
  Massive and attractive
  Niggas is captive
  Chemotherapy needed
  Lyrics radioactive
  When I hit hard
  It get my dick hard
  In my backyard
  Analyze the stars
  On how to defeat all odds
  In a new zone
  I'm on a new phone
  Make most of the wackest rapper niggas
  Wanna find a new home
  Like Rasco jeans
  My style flip two-tone
  Pass my blue chrome
  Here's one of the best of Busta Rhymes own
  My debut made you
  Wonder who
  Shit blazes so much
  You wish you could play out
  So you could blaze, too
  Before I shout you
  Or give reason to doubt you
  I study shit and re-analyze everything about you
  My rhymes on the preserve
  Niggas know we deserve
  Everything up in your stash and in the reserve
  Fuck that!!!
  Hook up all my lyrics on the echos and the re-verbs
  Never fuck with these herbs
  My squad remains superb
  (Buckshot)
  (Heh) Walkin thru the streets
  Undercovers follow us, stress
  Muthafuckas on the regular to bust
  Trust us
  We don't get enough
  Nigga wha-what?
  Dirty baggy jeans
  Black napsack with something for ya gut
  Wooly-type skully
  Fully strapped, black bulletproof, and match
  Quick,
  Whip up a batch
  Of bullets to blow up the map
  Shit
  Collapse, perhaps doing this in the raps
  In the long time, ya trapped
  Buck make em react
  God verse attack
  Let em know the moon is still black
  And it's a fact...
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
  Yo stop frontin, ya know we got cha opin
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin, yo
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
  Don't front, you know we got cha opin, kid
  Yo stop frontin, you know we got cha opin
  Huh, word life
  Mad niggas opin
  Yeah, word life
  Flipmode, muthafuckin Buckshot
  Mad niggas scopin
  Buck to ya brain!!!!!