Busta Rhymes - There's Not a Problem My Squad Can't Fix

Titel: There's Not a Problem My Squad Can't Fix
Artist: Busta Rhymes

Come on, yeah
\n Villain, come on
\n Aiight, I got this side right here
\n Take the side right there
\n Gonna do this, Busta bust
\n Come on, aiight
\n Come on
\n
\n Verse 1:
\n
\n Pause, to the wall
\n With the dirty dog, will rap ya'll
\n If you aint with the bike, crotch
\n Till I break your jaw
\n Been tryin to knock us
\n Tryin to kill or stop us
\n Jack or pop us
\n Busta bust, they fakin
\n The cake is for the takin
\n Why they run in their face?
\n I'm lettin the plan bake
\n Formulate, now look at the plot
\n We got more and more shit that's hot
\n Show the rock, spot, clock or knock
\n Nigga da hole pot, ready or not?
\n We coming, natchin every number
\n With your hoe in da Benz o, dumba like a motherfucker
\n (Busta comes in)
\n
\n Verse 2:
\n
\n You can be my lady
\n You can even be my lolli pop sucka
\n The road long coming like the mad trucka
\n Lot of jealous niggas lookin funnier than Chris Tucker
\n God bless, oh yes
\n I stay fresh, full of finesse
\n My congress, show progress
\n Stylist, hit you with tha shit to digest
\n And this rhyme shit we be some of the world's finest
\n Your highness
\n Leaving corny niggas spineless
\n Attack it with the classic rhyme flow timeless ( Ha Ha )
\n
\n Chorus:
\n
\n Not a problem my squad can't fix
\n We can do it in the mix
\n When your niggas talk trash
\n Your forget to bust ass
\n Cause you know we don't fuck around
\n When your niggas talk shit
\n Lay ya six feet under ground
\n Ground, gro, gro, gro, gro
\n When your niggas talk shit
\n Lay ya six feet under ground
\n Ground, gro, gro, gro, gro
\n
\n Verse 3:
\n
\n This is how we ride
\n Throw your hands from side to side
\n It's party time
\n And don't forget to get yours
\n Cause I'm a get mine (Who dat?)
\n The villain
\n Till I'm peelin a million
\n Ridin dirty
\n And bustin like thirty thirty
\n Till when I get in
\n Knowin that the shit is fucked
\n I'm still here to win
\n Chedda
\n If you aint a pilot than I think you better
\n Hang a little
\n What you got?
\n A sweater man
\n My nigga my life so cut like Kain
\n Real raw
\n Ya'll don't know shit about Jamal
\n Or what I'm in it for
\n Cash cards, fly whores and tours
\n Fillin my plate with no mess to no limits
\n The mother once in it
\n Has since froze frigid
\n Ballers and gimicks
\n Dick lickin
\n Chasin chickens
\n I match for the cash with the clickin
\n Grippin sho'
\n Then I'm dippin
\n Into whippin
\n High trippin
\n
\n Verse 4:
\n
\n Why you niggas hopping and skipping
\n I stick to clippin
\n Yo, accelerate on the gas
\n Move fast, blast!
\n Find a nigga foot in your ass
\n Colorful niggas let's keep the whole contrast
\n Flipmode is tha squad a news flash, bustin shit up
\n What the fuck? Nigga get up
\n Violate, niggas get their whole shit lit up
\n Break fool, niggas know the rules
\n Rap jewels, champagne bath, no more, we in the pool
\n Nigga caught a motherfuckin strain on the brain
\n Ridin on the train
\n I'm a whip a Benz in tha rain
\n Oversize click, on the rise
\n So realize
\n We be dem niggas that eat up all you funny little small fries
\n The franchise
\n Flipmode damagin all you fall guys
\n Yo I'm tired of niggas they full of true lies
\n No time
\n We got the right surprise
\n Need a new beginning
\n Need to get a baptise
\n You need to get a baptise
\n Word is bond
\n
\n Chorus
\n
\n Just party to tha shit like this come on
\n Just bounce to tha muthafuckin beat come on
\n Niggas don't know my brand new song come on
\n Hear me out ya'll uh
\n Feel my shit
\n Come on bounce
\n What the fuck?