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Busta Rhymes

"Trojan Horse"

[Intro: Roc Marciano]
Uh, uh
Yo, yo Jazz, tell n*ggas over in mu'f*ckin’ Rum Haven cut the mu'f*ckin' check (uh)
Stop playin’ wit' me, hah
Oh, most definitely
Ya'll already know what the f*ck this sh*t is, n*gga
It's a hostile takeover, n*gga, ya dig?
Marc, baby
The best in the business
Yeah, you feel me?
Mm, come on

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
Yo, we America's most wanted
The forty colt stay close by the stomach
The block a 100, I'm a product of it
The tri-color Vacheron was flooded, it suffered
The face look flustered, it's blushin'
Well, somethin’ buxom jumped in the tux, and
The guts colored Robitussin
The gun come with elephant tusks where you clutch it
The gator luggage got tough skin, you gotta love it, come and rub it
If it ain’t come from us, throw it in the rubbish (trash it)
Cut the top off the Rolls, it's uncovered
I feel exposed, I’m reluctant to even let the sun in
My necklace, son, it look like an electric current
If you touch it, you can feel it buzzin', almost like it's plugged in (bzz, bzz)
That's that talk that core n*ggas pick up on (uhh)
It’s like a whistle, only meant for dogs to hear the calls
This was written with Liquid Swords by the mixing board, the plot thickens
I dipped my fingers in the sauce (uh)
Licked it off like a bulldog front the liquor store (boot, boot, boot, boot)
Shots ricocheted off the Benz's door like a pinball
I'm goin', alls you heard was the engine roar (ooh!)
Champagne on the plane, I'm chippin' away at a brick of yay until it's flakes
My b*tch from Gates, sniffin' big eight
Diamond cuts on a n*gga figure eight
Let's get this sh*t straight, these hitters, ain't no strippers in this cake (uh)

[Hook: Busta Rhymes and Roc Marciano]
Look, Trojan horse
Look n*gga, Trojan horse
All you wild b*tches out there, Trojan horse (bomb)
Get off my di*k, no (hah)
Get on my di*k, Trojan horse
f*ck is wrong with you? Trojan horse (uh)
Donkey, Trojan horse (facts)
Saddle up, b*tch
Ride this, ride this, ride this (yo)

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
Look, and while I'm out here tryin' to chop n*ggas, grab me the axe (ha)
You walk a thin line like a high wire, balancin' act (ooh)
Fabric sick like I got fitted for the Met Gala
Keep it frozen like I'm taking regular trips to Alaska (sh*t)
Roll up weed in mango leaf or the skin of banana
So much charisma, sh*t devolve into extravaganzas
Get your cameras out before the Farrakhan'll get the answers (ah)
To find solutions instead of shootin' n*ggas to kill the cancer (bahm!)
You spendin' bread on stripper dancers when I sip my Fanta (bah!)
Buck 50 in your face, try stop the bleeding with a Pamper (bahm!)
Music for lowlife n*ggas while salutin' the booster (hooh!)
To heirs, imperial majesty, now call me Mansa Musa (ha ha)
Lounge on my don sh*t while I'm smokin' avocado hookah (*inhale*)
Adhere to Colorado, f*ck followin' Kama Sutra
[*Spanish words*]
They better greet me from the coconut when I touch Panama (*perico!*)
Gimme that f*cked-up bag today, you better, playin' 'em all (ha ha)
Sangria sippin', b*tches sniffin' in Zanzibar
Bars is potent, super-monster diesel on the powerlift
Like when we locked the worker in the gate while taking a twelve hour shift (ha ha ha)
This sour gift why n*ggas frown like they got sour lips
Pound your b*tch so there ain't nothin' left but her pus*y smell on the ground to sniff (wang)
Look (wang), not a guitar riff
Don't p*ss me off and make a n*gga mad and have to call up Spliff

[Hook: Busta Rhymes]
Look, Trojan horse
Look n*gga, Trojan horse
All you wild b*tches out there, Trojan horse
Get off my di*k, no
Get on my di*k, Trojan horse
f*ck is wrong with you? Trojan horse
Donkey, Trojan horse
Saddle up, b*tch
Ride this, ride this, yo

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