[Busta Rhymes]
  UHHHH!! You don't know what we doin right here!
    [Intro/Chorus One: repeat 2X]
    One two three we gon' turn it out
  And make you rock to the beat and then scream and shout
  We gonna hit you with the shit we got here
  We gonna blow your miiiinnnd (blow your miiiinnnd)
  Keep it movin like this, keep it movin like that
  If I die, I'ma only come back
  Yo, I'm saying if you think that you can step to me wrong
  Don't even waste your tiiiimmme (waste your tiiiimmme)
    [Chorus Two:]
    You niggaz talk shit then abandon ship
  Niggaz talk shit then they abandon ship
  Niggaz talk shit, then they abandon ship
  Niggaz talk shit then they abandon ship
    [Verse One: Rampage the Last Boy Scout, Busta Rhymes]
    I 8Off like the Assassin, now I'm blastin I'm takin over
  Stick you for your blue Range Rover
  I told ya, Rampage a real live soldier
  Been in the game, sinc the age of thirteen
  A microphone fiend, so I'm goin to see my P.O.
  It's August the 1st, so I guess I'm a Leo
  My P.O., look like Vanessa Del Rio
  She pulled my rap sheet, just like, Neo Geo
    Hahahaaa! I always roam through the forest
  Just like a brontosaurus, born in the month of May
  so my sign is Taurus, kick you in your face
  like my fuckin name was Chuck Norris, make you sing my chorus
  Rock to the beat and then, turn into a walrus
  You remain nameless, my victory remains flawless
  Acting like you wild, but I know you really harmless
  While your time is coming, I make the fat shit regardless
    Many niggaz wanna know when the Ramp return
  Yo I'm gettin phone calls from that nigga Howard Stern
  He wants to know about my Flip Mode click
  The way we get down and BUST NIGGAZ SHIT
  LP after LP, we make G's
  I run up in your ganks den take you for your keys
  I'm not lying or joking, you get broken
  Dead in Flatbush, back to Roanoake and...
    People always askin me, how your shit be sellin
  For makin shit guaranteed to bust your fuckin melon
  Police throwed me up on charges like I was a felon
  There was no tellin, when I was strikin had you swellin
  Cruisin in my Lands, watch the police how they be gellin
  Lock you up for days and got a nigga ass smellin
  Yo FUCK THAT! You best believe there ain't no time for dwellin
  If you ain't makin noise you need to kill the fuckin yellin
    [Chorus One]
  [Chorus Two]
    [Verse Two: Rampage, Busta]
    Yo, yo, yo I run up in your set like a New York city...
  I can't slip, I beat you down with my vice grip
  Your lost, that means you way off course
  No remorse, I'm gettin five in The Source
    I be saddleback biting motherfuckers like a horse
  Turn and toss, niggaz all up in my applesauce
  Watch me reinforce, my shit feel good like intercourse
  Ever since I was a shorty rockin Hugo Boss
    Aiyyo bust it Bust (why) you just made my day
  If you didn't put me on I'd be locked like O.J.
  Now I'm writin rhymes hittin shorties everyday
  In the full runnin drinkin ice Tanqueray
  I don't eat pork I take a fish fellet
  Now I'm knockin out niggaz from .. to .. touche!
  Now I'm goin back around the way
  I'm rippin shit, like my name was Marvin Gaye
    Yo, now I'm back with more Bionic like my name was Colt Seavers
  Got you niggaz open like a bunch of wide receivers
  Time is on the meter, go clean your act up in the cleaners
  Chickenhead, give me some of your chicken fajitas
  Yo I beg your pardon, I write my rhymes way past the margins
  Squeeze the Charmin, peace to one million men marchin
  When you talk shit you really don't know what you startin
  Now your shit is done like a fuckin empty milk carton
    It's on for the nine-six, mad shows at the Ritz
  Now we got you open like Fixx
  Stickin to your stomach like Quaker Oat Grits
  Fisherman hat with my brand new kicks
  On the low, I still rock my Girbauds
  See the show, I got my nickel plated fo'-fo'
  All my rough niggaz open the do'
  Cause Boy Scout brings the ruckus and I'm still hardco'
    Yo, when I walk streets you know my blade's a little sharper
  Fuck Peter Parker, I cross you like a magic marker
  Everytime I hit I always hit a little harder
  Blazing to the point where niggaz look a little darker
  Catching suntans from my music, fans understand
  Making fat shit, I always love to lend a helping hand
  Organized rhyme unit like the Poison Clan
  While your ride is busted, I be your luxury Sedan
  Number one nigga in the chain of command
  Breakin fool in school like my nigga Geechie Dan
  Aiyyyyyo, I see intruders on my scan
  Singin at your funeral like Bobby Bluebland
    [Chorus One]