Released: September 18, 2018
Featuring: Busta Rhymes
Songwriter: Busta Rhymes Roc Marciano
Producer: Roc Marciano
[Intro: Roc Marciano]
Uh, uh
Yo, yo Jazz, tell niggas over in mu'fuckin’ Rum Haven cut the mu'fuckin' check (uh)
Stop playin’ wit' me, hah
Oh, most definitely
Ya'll already know what the fuck this shit is, nigga
It's a hostile takeover, nigga, ya dig?
Marc, baby
The best in the business
Yeah, you feel me?
Mm, come on
[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
Yo, we America's most wanted
The forty colt stay close by the stomach
The block a 100, I'm a product of it
The tri-color Vacheron was flooded, it suffered
The face look flustered, it's blushin'
Well, somethin’ buxom jumped in the tux, and
The guts colored Robitussin
The gun come with elephant tusks where you clutch it
The gator luggage got tough skin, you gotta love it, come and rub it
If it ain’t come from us, throw it in the rubbish (trash it)
Cut the top off the Rolls, it's uncovered
I feel exposed, I’m reluctant to even let the sun in
My necklace, son, it look like an electric current
If you touch it, you can feel it buzzin', almost like it's plugged in (bzz, bzz)
That's that talk that core niggas pick up on (uhh)
It’s like a whistle, only meant for dogs to hear the calls
This was written with Liquid Swords by the mixing board, the plot thickens
I dipped my fingers in the sauce (uh)
Licked it off like a bulldog front the liquor store (boot, boot, boot, boot)
Shots ricocheted off the Benz's door like a pinball
I'm goin', alls you heard was the engine roar (ooh!)
Champagne on the plane, I'm chippin' away at a brick of yay until it's flakes
My bitch from Gates, sniffin' big eight
Diamond cuts on a nigga figure eight
Let's get this shit straight, these hitters, ain't no strippers in this cake (uh)
[Hook: Busta Rhymes and Roc Marciano]
Look, Trojan horse
Look nigga, Trojan horse
All you wild bitches out there, Trojan horse (bomb)
Get off my dick, no (hah)
Get on my dick, Trojan horse
Fuck is wrong with you? Trojan horse (uh)
Donkey, Trojan horse (facts)
Saddle up, bitch
Ride this, ride this, ride this (yo)
[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
Look, and while I'm out here tryin' to chop niggas, grab me the axe (ha)
You walk a thin line like a high wire, balancin' act (ooh)
Fabric sick like I got fitted for the Met Gala
Keep it frozen like I'm taking regular trips to Alaska (shit)
Roll up weed in mango leaf or the skin of banana
So much charisma, shit devolve into extravaganzas
Get your cameras out before the Farrakhan'll get the answers (ah)
To find solutions instead of shootin' niggas to kill the cancer (bahm!)
You spendin' bread on stripper dancers when I sip my Fanta (bah!)
Buck 50 in your face, try stop the bleeding with a Pamper (bahm!)
Music for lowlife niggas while salutin' the booster (hooh!)
To heirs, imperial majesty, now call me Mansa Musa (ha ha)
Lounge on my don shit while I'm smokin' avocado hookah (*inhale*)
Adhere to Colorado, fuck followin' Kama Sutra
[*Spanish words*]
They better greet me from the coconut when I touch Panama (*perico!*)
Gimme that fucked-up bag today, you better, playin' 'em all (ha ha)
Sangria sippin', bitches sniffin' in Zanzibar
Bars is potent, super-monster diesel on the powerlift
Like when we locked the worker in the gate while taking a twelve hour shift (ha ha ha)
This sour gift why niggas frown like they got sour lips
Pound your bitch so there ain't nothin' left but her pussy smell on the ground to sniff (wang)
Look (wang), not a guitar riff
Don't piss me off and make a nigga mad and have to call up Spliff
[Hook: Busta Rhymes]
Look, Trojan horse
Look nigga, Trojan horse
All you wild bitches out there, Trojan horse
Get off my dick, no
Get on my dick, Trojan horse
Fuck is wrong with you? Trojan horse
Donkey, Trojan horse
Saddle up, bitch
Ride this, ride this, yo
Uh, uh
Yo, yo Jazz, tell niggas over in mu'fuckin’ Rum Haven cut the mu'fuckin' check (uh)
Stop playin’ wit' me, hah
Oh, most definitely
Ya'll already know what the fuck this shit is, nigga
It's a hostile takeover, nigga, ya dig?
Marc, baby
The best in the business
Yeah, you feel me?
Mm, come on
[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
Yo, we America's most wanted
The forty colt stay close by the stomach
The block a 100, I'm a product of it
The tri-color Vacheron was flooded, it suffered
The face look flustered, it's blushin'
Well, somethin’ buxom jumped in the tux, and
The guts colored Robitussin
The gun come with elephant tusks where you clutch it
The gator luggage got tough skin, you gotta love it, come and rub it
If it ain’t come from us, throw it in the rubbish (trash it)
Cut the top off the Rolls, it's uncovered
I feel exposed, I’m reluctant to even let the sun in
My necklace, son, it look like an electric current
If you touch it, you can feel it buzzin', almost like it's plugged in (bzz, bzz)
That's that talk that core niggas pick up on (uhh)
It’s like a whistle, only meant for dogs to hear the calls
This was written with Liquid Swords by the mixing board, the plot thickens
I dipped my fingers in the sauce (uh)
Licked it off like a bulldog front the liquor store (boot, boot, boot, boot)
Shots ricocheted off the Benz's door like a pinball
I'm goin', alls you heard was the engine roar (ooh!)
Champagne on the plane, I'm chippin' away at a brick of yay until it's flakes
My bitch from Gates, sniffin' big eight
Diamond cuts on a nigga figure eight
Let's get this shit straight, these hitters, ain't no strippers in this cake (uh)
[Hook: Busta Rhymes and Roc Marciano]
Look, Trojan horse
Look nigga, Trojan horse
All you wild bitches out there, Trojan horse (bomb)
Get off my dick, no (hah)
Get on my dick, Trojan horse
Fuck is wrong with you? Trojan horse (uh)
Donkey, Trojan horse (facts)
Saddle up, bitch
Ride this, ride this, ride this (yo)
[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
Look, and while I'm out here tryin' to chop niggas, grab me the axe (ha)
You walk a thin line like a high wire, balancin' act (ooh)
Fabric sick like I got fitted for the Met Gala
Keep it frozen like I'm taking regular trips to Alaska (shit)
Roll up weed in mango leaf or the skin of banana
So much charisma, shit devolve into extravaganzas
Get your cameras out before the Farrakhan'll get the answers (ah)
To find solutions instead of shootin' niggas to kill the cancer (bahm!)
You spendin' bread on stripper dancers when I sip my Fanta (bah!)
Buck 50 in your face, try stop the bleeding with a Pamper (bahm!)
Music for lowlife niggas while salutin' the booster (hooh!)
To heirs, imperial majesty, now call me Mansa Musa (ha ha)
Lounge on my don shit while I'm smokin' avocado hookah (*inhale*)
Adhere to Colorado, fuck followin' Kama Sutra
[*Spanish words*]
They better greet me from the coconut when I touch Panama (*perico!*)
Gimme that fucked-up bag today, you better, playin' 'em all (ha ha)
Sangria sippin', bitches sniffin' in Zanzibar
Bars is potent, super-monster diesel on the powerlift
Like when we locked the worker in the gate while taking a twelve hour shift (ha ha ha)
This sour gift why niggas frown like they got sour lips
Pound your bitch so there ain't nothin' left but her pussy smell on the ground to sniff (wang)
Look (wang), not a guitar riff
Don't piss me off and make a nigga mad and have to call up Spliff
[Hook: Busta Rhymes]
Look, Trojan horse
Look nigga, Trojan horse
All you wild bitches out there, Trojan horse
Get off my dick, no
Get on my dick, Trojan horse
Fuck is wrong with you? Trojan horse
Donkey, Trojan horse
Saddle up, bitch
Ride this, ride this, yo