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Busta Rhymes Against All Odds

drop bombs Against all odds Still remain Gods Grip your arm We always come hard The world is ours Call a National Guard Here we go Any bitch that rhyme

You know the issue I'm official When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you Chorus FLIPMODE SQUAD Here to drop bombs AGAINST ALL ODDS Still

You know the issue I'm official When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you Chorus FLIPMODE SQUAD Here to drop bombs AGAINST ALL ODDS Still

like I got you niggaz crazy Uh huh, against all odds Hopin' my thug motherfuckas know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds Up in the

get it clear, Brooklyn, Vietnam Yo yo, live from the seven-one-eight y'all Lay down nigga It's the ill Na Na Cut ya dick off put it in ya mouth y'all

me feelin like I got you niggas crazy (Uh huh) Against all odds up lettin my thug mothafuckas know This'll be the realist shit I ever wrote Against all odds

lasso, shit is a hassle There's no days, for broke days, we sell it, smoke pays While all the old folks pray, to Jesus' soakin' they sins in trays Of holy water, odds against

.Y.C., is all I see, O.D.B., n****, R.I.P. (Konichiwa bi*ches) This Killa Beez on ya M.I.C., you want it all Well, then y'all like me (Konichiwa bi*ches

made me Lovin' how I got you niggas crazy Against all odds, hopin' my thug motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds