[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
take your lady. Where the shotcallers at? [Verse 2 - Lil' Flip] It ain't nuthing to a boss, That's why I spent three hundred on a cross! Pink and yellow
all you catz don't know [Repeat 1] Yeah baby, shit's about to jump off and Lookin' for the bus to bring in my man from up north Been like three
your crosses It's time to tally up your wins and your losses It goes one for Scott LaRock and two for Pac and B.I.G Three for all the mothers who
off punk" just to taunt you Into believing the ryhmes I say are meant for one thing and that's achieving my goal So I can stroll where the fat money rolls, 'cross
was the loser, Who was starin at my shoes 'n', couldn't think of nothing to say. I'm on the runway, Of a flight that's going one way, On "cross your
And I dona?™t even carry guns anymore cuz I dona?™t got to Got undercover cops thata?™ll legally pop u And I dona?™t seen a lot of people cross the line
home Message on the screen Says don't make plans, you're broke No, no this can't be right I know that time is tight I've only just been paid Three
sho’ don’t. And how many shots till you hit that flo’, I bet fo’. (Yo Charlie you loco). Fo’ sho’, how many people dipping in my fo’ door. (I see three
t call me a nigga when I get to heaven Verse two: You’re waitin’ for the devil to come from the ground Clown, take a look around Just look at the cross
I, broke us down, made us pray to his God. And when I think about it, it makes me say damn, I wanna kill Sam. Verse three: Now in '91, they wanna tax
call me a nigga when I get to heaven Verse Two: You're waitin' for the devil to come from the ground Clown, take a look around Just look at the cross
put themself in check Three strikes you in the penzo, checked to your neck Your woman cries, your baby grows up alone Talkin through a three inch glass
1) I love niggaz who talk drama till the gun is stuck in they face Screaming for they mama, left with three in the dome three in the chest and waist Don
give a fuck if y'all niggaz hate me I drop bodies off where the lakes be But lately, I've been hitin cribz And safes where the cake be I take three to
about to tear shit down What ya'll thought ya'll was going eat forever and my dog wouldn't blaze heat for cheddar We better eat together or meet at the cross
Chorus) you want me to cross the border? well come on baby you want me to cross the border? well come on baby (Boobonic) They call me A.J., A.K.A. Ant
drift, man you better be Peyton Boy the heats on, they make a peace bond I'm in this bitch, throwing up the seventeenth sign Straight frowns, no daps, strapped three