It's the musical felon, the black John Lennon who keep the gat between the brief and the denim The way the world is headed, I can see how it's endin' but I'm gonna get this paper from now to armageddon My mental's too strict, my squad is too thick, I fucked up and slipped but I quickly caught a grip Since my man put me on, ("Eh-heh.") I took another route I'm wreckin' shows you know from here to over South Them mothafuckas know exactly talkin' about Spliff Star, see me on MTV Fuck that! I'm comin' to gain on Soul Train Now I'm gettin' paid like that nigga Damon Wayans Fuck that! No more stress on the brain! Fuck that! No more sellin' cocaine! I'm out there, I'm out there on the radio Catch me in the video doin' my thing Still smokin' crucial bang Just came off my P-O ("Yo!") I'm in my basement writin' 'nough flow That's right, my fuckin' brain's open Got you jealous niggas on the sides slopin' Smell the weed I'm totin' It's stink like skunks, I'm beatin' down you punks Now shut the fuck up! ("'K up! 'K up! 'K up...")
[Busta Rhymes] "Ayyo, ayyo, ayyo, what the-what the fuck is goin' on in my shit?! Ayyo, Spliff Star! How the fuck you up in my shit, got your fuckin' songs on my LP, nigga? Nigga, we know your shit comin' out in '98, mothafucka! Have patience! Mawfucka tryin' to bogart space on my LP..."
