Paroles de la chanson Spazzz par Busta Rhymes

[Busta Rhymes & Black Milk]
Yah, yah, y-yah-yah-yah-yah
Yah, yah, y-y-y-y-yah-yah-yah, yah
Let's start it off with my man Dilla
Yah, yah, y-y-y-yah, yah-yah-yah (Go)

[Busta Rhymes]
You blundering fools that's wondering (Who's that?!)
Bust' Rhymes, reincarnating the boom-bap (Bitch)
Powerful blow, y'all should probably move back
Take notes, study my shit, school a new jack
Look, this what you do while I give you the new crack
(Peep) How I bang 'em and throw another loose stack

Bomb hard, you know it's the God when I spit though
C.C. Sabathia how a nigga pitch blow
Pop like I'm holdin' a cannon, let the bitch go
Can't box God, what you holdin' up your fist fo'? (Fist fo')
Sharper than ever, I be on my tip-toe
Probably think shit's a super-power how my wrists glow
Mutilate and completely devour niggas (Get low)
While I'm wide-receiving that bread – Ochocinco! ('Co)
Fightin' the beat like I was schizo
Come through, have you a seat, enjoy the best show

[Busta Rhymes]
Y'all don't want me spaz, my nigga, not how you want it

Y'all don't want me spaz, my nigga, ain't how you want it
Y'all don't want me spaz, my nigga, ain't how you want it (Want it)
Y'all don't want me spaz, my nigga, ain't how you want it
Y'all don't want me spaz, my nigga, ain't how you want it
Y'all don't want me spazzin'

[Busta Rhymes]
I bag big-ass bitches and rope 'em, now niggas call me cow rustler
Any nigga frontin' and want it, I'ma satisfy the customer (Who want it?)
I got a half-price ass-whippin' for bussin' ya
Beat 'em and disassemble a nigga with a muffler
Do this shit for the hustler

While I'm sippin', I'm whippin' the gas guzzler
V-12 racing down the Bruck-a-ner
I laugh at most of you niggas to the point they call me chuckler
I bring it for the hood and you know I black for the sufferer
I got a damn right spazzin' and actin' so obscene
Typecast when I black like Bokeem
Woodbine – you wishin' ya could find shit that I stash
Shit that be makin' a nigga wan' clash
Bust ya' shit with a smash and did the dash
And have 'em look for the chalk
I body shit then I'm leavin' the street to talk
Then I'm plantin' my pitchfork
And then I rep it, connect it, and then bruise
Niggas that study my next chess moves
You took a wrong turn on this avenue (Uh-huh)

Y'all know that y'all ain't got a cage for this animal (Uh-huh)
When I'm in the building, niggas know how to act
Get it up, get it up, get it up, up (Bang on' em!)
Act sick (C'mon!) backflip (C'mon!)
You know the God be back in the cockpit (C'mon!)
Money flippin' like we on the crack strip (C'mon!)
See we ain't playin'
Load the million, we keep 'em prayin', watch me fuck it up again

[Busta Rhymes]
Yo, yo – I hit 'em slow like a bag of the dro
A mack with the glow, black in my clothes
All of a sudden, they buzzin', I'm what you never heard of

I'm everything that they wasn't, let me expose it further
Future high-tech, I di-tect
And dissect niggas and ride jets
And switch 'em out and then I think about how my mind gets (Righteous)
Then I use a cloud to wipe my ass while I'm flyin'–diapers
'Til I split multiple cells in the brain when I spit in ciphers
And I got the game locked more than categorized lifers
Better clarify your vision and clear the screen with your wipers
I'm nicer, when I switch a lane like I'm whippin' a Viper
The type to wrestle up bread like I'm Rowdy Roddy Piper

You the type to kiss a bitch who give me head and wanna wife her
Roll up, all of a sudden (Hold up!) there's no competing
But it amaze me the type of shit niggas dream when they be sleeping
Reluctantly I claim and charter the plane for the weekend
While I watch 'em wake up to unfathomable ass-beatings
Look, look, turn the lights off
I might wipe off the perspiration my mic's off?!
Well, fuck it, I'ma keep it goin', bitch, 'til my track gone
Kev Brown, do me a favor, turn my mic back on!
Jimmy crack corn, just when you thought you laid the bomb down, homie
You was dreamin', better calm down, homie...