Busta Rhymes, Big Daddy Kane, Conway The Machine - Slap lyrics

I go on and on and on and
Don't approach me, I back the ratchet
That's a warnin' hahaha
Y'all gon' appreciate the slap today
Taheem Allah, King Asiatic Allah
AKA Bust' Rhymes
Big Daddy Kane in the motherfucker
Yeah, we in the motherfucker this evenin'
Rest in peace Biz Mark'
Rest in peace to all of our fallen soldiers
Rest in peace to PnB Rock, look look
Somebody polish my crown and put
It back on my motherfuckin' yo, yo

We on course now, back with the force
Respect the boss shots let off
Shit leak out your head like pasta sauce
Who's to blame?
(Uh) Burnin' this bitch and bangin' flame
Yeah, we back (Conglomerate, bitch)
You know the name (Ayo) you ridin' on empty


You should refuel at Amoco
Most you niggas is finished
Now pop yourself like Plaxico
Pass the dough
Cook you and serve you like a casserole
And lay you out on the street and
Display you like a fashion show
Sorry, but I have to go
My spit is full of rockets
And I'm done with laying
Niggas in quadrilateral boxes
Compatible with toxins
The texture in my lecture
Will reflect the image
Of niggas gettin' chopped with
A thousand oxes the shit that I concoct is
Mixed like type two diabetes
Mixed with high cholesterol, artery blockage
(Haha) you better call the cops, kid (Huh)
Or quickly turn into one of them niggas
Abroad as a headless unsolvable hostage
Niggas throw the coke around like
Them niggas in mosh pit's
A lot of niggas think they got it
But niggas just pop shit
We back to giving niggas
Bangers, controllin' the block, it's
The fact that I'm holdin' a rock
While I'm foldin' a knot, bitch

Yeah, I see these niggas still lyin' on
They raps and buyin' they own plaques (Huh?)
I'm so relaxed, I don't reply if you don't at
Killer been chillin'
But somebody dyin' if bro snap
He dyin' to go, "Grrat"
That's when y'all niggas gon' be
Dyin' to go rat in and out of jail
So we don't mind if we go back (Huh?)
Got the rap business down to the science
Don't know cap (Woo)
Hall of fame and we're just
Analyzin' my old stats (Ah)
Glidin' on those tracks (Ah)
My catalog in it's entirety all slap
And my impact feels like that of a ball bat
Swing from Aaron Judge, bling canary studs
(Talk to 'em) yeah, Mercedes concept
Where you get that from?
You talkin' online and I ain't
Worried 'bout that bum (Come on, man)
I was bullshittin', then I
Three-peat back to back, uh
Machine brought that feel back
How they ain't gon' jack son? (Woo)
'Bout to go on my Kobe and Shaq run (Ah)
Punch a nigga in the chest
He'll get a collapsed lung (Ha ha ha)
Doat street, May block, you
Know where I'm at, uh
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
One

Made a solemn oath to never stop gettin'
Decades later, steady 'bout business
Spendin' wild since I ain't have
A pot to piss in tried to give 'em game
But they steady not listenin'
Some of y'all got that Fetty Wap vision
My third eye improved my effin' cognition
Move like the feds and
Hit every spot different
When me and Buss' hit the block, listen
Let me try to spit it to you logically
You got Kevin's heart but no state property
I can land wherever in this here monopoly
Park Place, Boardwalk, them Greens
I got the three
Stop playin', y'all, I got a thirst to meet
But I left a spot at the table
It's common courtesy
The urgency for currency
Certainly workin' me, purposely
Even inadvertently, turnin' me into Hercules
No laggin' and that's the deft of it
If y'all don't know the roots to this
Then let me Questlove it
Instead of y'all livin' on a set budget
Make sure that bag secure, next subject
I ain't at the ATM to check luggage
My bags carry on (It'll come to you later)
'Cause I'm a real earner, boy
And you don't wanna turn the
Boy into a Nat Turner, boy
You 'bout to be a learner, boy
Enjoy yourself until I pop smoke
And burn a boy
End of story, no one goes after me
I anchor tracks so you hear last from me
Don't ask me to pass the mic
That's blasphemy
Fuck I look like to y'all, DJ Cassidy?
A-Big Daddy, haha, my man, my mellow
Let's count this bread because you
Been the type of fellows hahaha