Released: November 11, 2016
Featuring: Busta Rhymes Consequence
Songwriter: Ray Shulman Phil Shulman Derek Shulman Kerry Minnear Q-Tip Consequence Busta Rhymes
Producer: Q-Tip Blair Wells
[Verse 1: Consequence]
I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Dream about Bugattis and other four-wheels
They say Illuminati and other ordeals
Is how my lawyer got me to avoid a raw deal
And now it's more real than it is for any other star
And that's enough to have you tearing up the mini-bar
I should probably get awards where the Emmys are
For how I deal with the pap like Remy Ma
I get in the car like a sniper's on the roof now
But don't confuse how you see me have to move now
I got bars like a cypher's in the booth now
Ooh, child, things are gonna get easier
'Long as they get my page right on Wikipedia
'Long as they say my name right in the media
If you don't, that's a sin like Cincinnati
'Cause ever since I had the polo suit at the Grammys
I been spittin' at the camera like Trick Daddy
So swaggy, he could've broke up with IG
I ain't surprised that they broke up on IG
I got the game on IV, might as well have a live feed
Keep a fresh cut from IB
So I always match the picture in my ID
They packin' Dub C had ran with Mack 10
I was still a baby Similac then
And what the crack era did to black men
It had to be an error if you had a Cadillac then
[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
How I rock mine, I throw it up
Makin' sure that you niggas all are on the same page
Powerful force, you better look both ways
Fuck that, I'm chokin' niggas, it's goin' down
I'm from a different cloth, we the oracles of the sounds
Skip town, hit 'em with impeccable pound
Lost, found, the way I flood it, niggas gon' drown
Rip shit—ayo, wait, wait, wait, wait—
I gotta do it again, I gotta do it again
You already know the script, roundhouse kick
She lookin' at me, lickin' her lip
Put my arm around her like a bowl of chip with a dip
With yo' bitch, what the fuck, niggas erupt
I got the half moon clip, that's banana
A good planner, a new anger like a larger Bruce Banner
Out the house, nigga, if you open your mouth
Man, nigga, if you open your mouth
Fuck the press, I'm leavin' every room in a mess
Like herds of bulls with they aprons on and bakin' soda
Keep it movin', keep the convo short
And bring a case of Henney (case of Henney)
House of pain, I control many (control many)
House of lies, you niggas go run, hide
Peep the way this vibe conflict with they real lives
(Nigga) Fanatic shit, we go bizarre (we go bizarre)
Bad news for niggas as I go emphatical, radical
National animal rulin' like a czar
Every time I black for the record, the shit splatter
The whole batter, no bullshit, the boom bapper
I pull the gat up, whip the shit, cook the batter
When I pull up on niggas, even your momma gon' scatter
Barishkaaa
I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Dream about Bugattis and other four-wheels
They say Illuminati and other ordeals
Is how my lawyer got me to avoid a raw deal
And now it's more real than it is for any other star
And that's enough to have you tearing up the mini-bar
I should probably get awards where the Emmys are
For how I deal with the pap like Remy Ma
I get in the car like a sniper's on the roof now
But don't confuse how you see me have to move now
I got bars like a cypher's in the booth now
Ooh, child, things are gonna get easier
'Long as they get my page right on Wikipedia
'Long as they say my name right in the media
If you don't, that's a sin like Cincinnati
'Cause ever since I had the polo suit at the Grammys
I been spittin' at the camera like Trick Daddy
So swaggy, he could've broke up with IG
I ain't surprised that they broke up on IG
I got the game on IV, might as well have a live feed
Keep a fresh cut from IB
So I always match the picture in my ID
They packin' Dub C had ran with Mack 10
I was still a baby Similac then
And what the crack era did to black men
It had to be an error if you had a Cadillac then
[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
How I rock mine, I throw it up
Makin' sure that you niggas all are on the same page
Powerful force, you better look both ways
Fuck that, I'm chokin' niggas, it's goin' down
I'm from a different cloth, we the oracles of the sounds
Skip town, hit 'em with impeccable pound
Lost, found, the way I flood it, niggas gon' drown
Rip shit—ayo, wait, wait, wait, wait—
I gotta do it again, I gotta do it again
You already know the script, roundhouse kick
She lookin' at me, lickin' her lip
Put my arm around her like a bowl of chip with a dip
With yo' bitch, what the fuck, niggas erupt
I got the half moon clip, that's banana
A good planner, a new anger like a larger Bruce Banner
Out the house, nigga, if you open your mouth
Man, nigga, if you open your mouth
Fuck the press, I'm leavin' every room in a mess
Like herds of bulls with they aprons on and bakin' soda
Keep it movin', keep the convo short
And bring a case of Henney (case of Henney)
House of pain, I control many (control many)
House of lies, you niggas go run, hide
Peep the way this vibe conflict with they real lives
(Nigga) Fanatic shit, we go bizarre (we go bizarre)
Bad news for niggas as I go emphatical, radical
National animal rulin' like a czar
Every time I black for the record, the shit splatter
The whole batter, no bullshit, the boom bapper
I pull the gat up, whip the shit, cook the batter
When I pull up on niggas, even your momma gon' scatter
Barishkaaa
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