Q-Tip, Busta Rhymes - N.T. lyrics

[Q-Tip, Busta Rhymes - N.T. lyrics]

For real though, who really got sick flow?
On the edge
Not the ledge hangin' out of the window
Bird chest niggas with ya wind
Of this fear rap
Fuck around you'll be minced meat
Inside of a meal sack
Puny little punks better hit the gym
But that doesn't mean nothin'
To the heart within
You cramped up, you and your team
I'm amped up and you asses can't dim my beam
My shine what the fuck is on your mind?
Little weakling rappers better hit the grind
Other brothers ain't motivated
They can't do it
Not only did I penetrate it, I ran through it
My music comes on and we mosh at the dance
Inside of your mind or you're
Inside of my pants
Musical intentions that we have is vast
You sick? Drink a NyQuil, well
I'm bed on your ass
Oh well then here comes the gelatin
Tip's on some shit is what you
Yap on your cell to friends
Now your party is completely blown
Real name is Kamaal
I'm in "complete me" zone
It's rap time, for you, that means nap time
Reachin for my joint? What the fuck
I'mma clap mine
Singin songs of sixpence, you sit tensed
Surprised your ass at the end
Like The Sixth Sense
Heavy hitters knocking shit out the park
You didn't even really play
Tell me why did you start
Spittin' sharp blades laced with bleach
You wanna play around
Kid? I'm not a walk at the beach
A stroll in the park
Or your fuckin' playground
Put on your headphones
Tell me how grenades sound
Put on your walk face and
Go underneath the town
Q Tip, Abstractm how I gets down

All my bitches
Dance if you know that you damn sure
Let your pussy drip on the
Dance floor if you wanna (Get down)
Fuck that niggas will bust gats
Better lit a make for their
Rush that cuz they wanna (Get down)
Flip this piano sick shit (Get down)
Chill you can get off my dick and (Get down)
While I'm on the hook get on your good foot
And blow up the spot for all of
You niggas cuz that's how we (Get down)

Comin with the brand new quickly we pan to
The young black man with
Intentions to ban you
Seems that people need an aid today
So many fade away, so many fiend to stay
I really rhyme cuz I feel I should say things
While the fraudulent act rap just
So they cop rings
Or maybe because when they was young
They was fronted on and left alone
To have their own fun
Now they're all grown up to be assholes
I'm giving you the rope
Will you tie it to lassos?
You swing dangling from peach trees
While I sip my Daiquiris
In the Southwest breeze
Writings so exciting the pen it keeps
Drippin out jings that's converted
To hymns and them
People be hummin it from now
To their next of kin
My family is starving? You know
They want me to win
Me, forfeit? Nigga, please get off it
Send the check in my name to my office
Mutombo in the lane, yo, I toss it
Abstract comin through, witness the bomb shit

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