Featuring: Gunplay DJ Paul Bun B Busta Rhymes

[Verse 1: Bun B]
Wake up to the whole room shaking, get up, wipe the dirt out my eyes, then
Run over to a blown-out window, it’s a war going on outside, man
Shit, I can see smoke in the distance and a fire lighting up the horizon
Hear the bombs going off in the background and the screams as a bitch nigga dies, and
It’s a goddamn dark moon rising, clouds of burgundy dripping plasma
Concrete cracking under your feet, it’s a fucking recipe for disaster
But I can’t stop now, though, so I gots to go harder, stronger, faster
And it gotta be quicker than the next nigga, can’t get caught by these bastards
Another day in the concrete jungle, where only the strong’ll survive, and
It’s a place where the kind get killed and the cutthroats keep on thriving
So the only way you can stay alive in a place like this where your life means nothing
Boy, you’d better be ready when the shit go down ‘cause it ain’t no future in your fronting
They assumed that they pushed the button, cancel Christmas and get below
Better chuck a roller then run for cover ‘cause if you don’t, they gon’ get you, bro
You’ve go nowhere to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
Yeah, this is the feeling inside
When a trill-ass nigga start riding to that violent-ass music

[Hook: Busta Rhymes]
This be the music for the violent nigga
This be the music for the violent nigga
This be the music for the violent nigga
For the violent nigga, for the violent nigga, for the violent nigga
This be the music for the violent nigga
This be the music for the violent nigga
This be the music for the violent nigga
For the violent nigga, for the violent nigga

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
When I step up in the building
Break a nigga back, break a nigga foot, chop a nigga, YAH, YAH, YAH, YAH
And I’m hoping you ain’t with him when a nigga get him in to kill him, STAR, STAR, STAR, STAR
Bumbaclot, shitting on these niggas with a jumbo fart
Beat a nigga ‘till he do a somersault, and everything about it is your fucking fault
I give you what you want, that’s what you’re asking for
I don’t even really think you bastards want it
Kind of music niggas get they ass whooped to
And put on World Star, somebody cameracord it
It’s VIOLENCE! See, now we lookin’ half dead, you’d better life support it
Funny, now the nigga’s little wifey on it – UGLY!
The news channel might record it
Leave me alone – trust me nigga
You don’t really wanna start, bitch
When I reach for the chrome, it won’t be the ratchet
Beat a nigga with a crowbar, bitch
Psychopath – fire from the blowtorch, I’ll light your ass
Blue four-fifth like a Blue Nose Pit and when I let it go, it’ll bite your ass

[Hook]

[Verse 3: DJ Paul]
Nigga think he bulletproof, unhurtable
Make him take a bullet and fuck if he took it personal
Niggas know I’m ruthless – convertible
They say “fuck what you heard” but I ain’t heard of ‘em
Click, clack – ‘bout to load up
Know a nigga Arm & Hammer, it’s baking soda
Know a nigga armed - I’m Bobby Chawla
Got that .45 in the whip when I rolled up
I told your motherfucking ass I’m gonna
I can get violent, motherfucker, no cover
Beat a young fucker completely a different color
Damn, when my finger roll on the trigger, no lover
Fucker – your bitch is chicken like Roscoe’s
I got the syrup on me like waffles
My life is a motherfucking movie, nigga
You’d think my shit was a novel
How, take that clip, that’s hollows
Hundred rounds in that drum, bitch
Y’all pussy like a Tom bitch
Whoopie Goldberg got ‘em all numb, bitch
That talk again, no, you need to pawn that
DJ Paul, know you heard of me
Bitch I got that tummy tuck
We usin’ tommy guns, no surgery

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Gunplay]
As violent as I am? Ask yourself “now, should I try him?”
He might have a knife or may be packing iron
He skinny but his heart brolic, hard to back him down
If he miss the first time, he loop it back around
For every loss, somebody die (POW)
Then he walk off like nothing happened, "La di da"
Then write a rap, record that shit and shotty’s mine
That nigga’s name is Gunplay and that’s what he ‘bout
A nigga don’t be with that shit, forget that shit
My stick’ll turn a car into a coffin when it hit that shit
Your bitch screaming too, she hit and bleeding too
Now that’s what happens when you take a peek into my freaking zoo
Bring drama like all up in your mama life
And all my niggas the Kaddafi and Osama type
The war’s on, yeah that’s what it’s sounding like
Dumpin’ on these cunts talking shit until they sounding right

[Hook]

DJ Kay Slay

Born in New York City, New York and raised in the East River Projects in Harlem, Keith Grayson started as a prominent graffiti artist and DJ, then known as DJ KG, and, at the age of 16, was featured in Style Wars, a 1983 hip-hop documentary.

He touched on his come-up during a Rap Radar interview in 2012:

I DJ’d and I did graffiti, I did everything, you know? I have pictures so, you know, some people can talk about it. Everybody really knew me but it was never a thing I did for money.