RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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[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
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