[Intro: Onyx | Busta Rhymes]
Take 'em up, take 'em out, bring 'em out dead! (Dead!)
Shine 'em up, shine 'em up, shine a bald head! (Head!)
One gun, two gun, three gun, four!
You're mine! It's all about Secret Specialist
Yuh, somebody call the hospital now!
There will be a couple of EMS units needed!
Reek Da Villian! French Montana! Uncle Murda! Bus-a-Bus!
Somebody ass in trouble now
Automatic!
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
You know you n***as fuckin' with the best, y'all! (Best, y'all!)
We comin' for your motherfuckin' chest, y'all! (Chest, y'all!)
We 'bout to lay you n***as down to rest, y'all! (Rest, y'all!), yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
Yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
You know you n***as fuckin' with the best, y'all! (Best, y'all!)
We comin' for your motherfuckin' chest, y'all! (Chest, y'all!)
We 'bout to lay you n***as down to rest, y'all! (Rest, y'all!), yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!), yes!
[Verse 1: French Montana]
Ayy, fresh up out the South Bronx, n***a name Montana (Who?)
All black grey bands and the black Phantom (Ha)
Here is somethin that you can't understand
Ain't nothin' realer, man
I got a sawed-off (Brrr), knock your motherfuckin' door off (Door off)
Ain't nothin' realer, press record off (Woo)
Me and Murda, Reek, Busta on track
Call your favorite DJ, tell 'em, "Bring it back"
[Verse 2: Uncle Murda]
(Yeah! Yeah!) This so 1990s
Before Diddy had n***as in suits that was shiny (Before Mase!)
Man, this so gangsta and gutter
If you beefin' with a n***a, you 'gon step to his mother (I'm just sayin', miss)
Uh, this so New York City
Let's start the beef back up for them killin' Biggie (We got you, Frank!)
Man, this make you wanna go throw the Timbs on
The beat's on, stomp a n***a to a M.O.P. song
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
You know you n***as fuckin' with the best, y'all! (Best, y'all!)
We comin' for your motherfuckin' chest, y'all! (Chest, y'all!)
We 'bout to lay you n***as down to rest, y'all! (Rest, y'all!), yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
Yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
You know you n***as fuckin' with the best, y'all! (Best, y'all!)
We comin' for your motherfuckin' chest, y'all! (Chest, y'all!)
We 'bout to lay you n***as down to rest, y'all! (Rest, y'all!), yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
[Verse 3: Reek da Villian]
Ayo, I hate your fuckin' guts and I hope that you die (Die)
Smackin' any n***a talkin' shit about Allah
Yeah, this that real rap BK to Bronx shit
P90 Ruger with the full extended long clip (Bow!)
Bet a n***a let off any hammer that my palm rip
Got the loud growin' in my yard on some farm shit (On some farm shit)
Try to front on Montana, Bus and Uncle Murda?
Get your mother hogtied and your uncle murdered
[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]
I don't give a fuck about shit, put your guns up!
Make 'em black out, I'm fuckin' the clubs up!
(Stick 'em up!) You gettin' robbed unless you put your drugs up!
Shots flyin' sound like the DJ just turned your drums up!
(What's up?) Relax, lil' n***a, 'fore you get fucked up!
Or get your face swollen and unbelievably scuffed up!
You see, I lock blocks and control avenues!
Spazzin' on theme music for the animals!
[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
You know you n***as fuckin' with the best, y'all! (Best, y'all!)
We comin' for your motherfuckin' chest, y'all! (Chest, y'all!)
We 'bout to lay you n***as down to rest, y'all! (Rest, y'all!), yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
Yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
You know you n***as fuckin' with the best, y'all! (Best, y'all!)
We comin' for your motherfuckin' chest, y'all! (Chest, y'all!)
We 'bout to lay you n***as down to rest, y'all! (Rest, y'all!), yes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)
