[Intro: Busta Rhymes]
King Karnov
The Conglomerate
Murda Mook, they got a lot of talk about you going on around town, my n***a
Yeah, a whole lot of talk
A whole lot of gossip
A whole lot of facts

[Verse 1:Murda Mook]
I’m one of them n***as that’ll run down and finish you
Then got to Vlad and promote my album on an interview
See, this is different living, you just in the view
I’m Louis 13, and y’all n***as pinnacle
Taste different, bass whipping, shoe bitches, lace women
And I ain’t tripping, I got a grip
My pockets swollen, I’m just walking in the club while it’s closing
I’m yelling bartender poor a couple up n***a
And look around, and I see it’s only us n***as
Fuck n***as, that’s just how I feel
Riding round Harlem, looking like dollar bill
Last week the club owner said “you gotta chill”
This week the club owner say “we gotta chill”
Fly shooter, I’m in designer still
Funny how I’m pulling all these n***as cards without a deal

[Hook]
I ain’t one of them n***as
Disloyal motherfuckers, I ain’t one of them n***as
Get caught up motherfuckers, I ain’t one of them n***as
But them royal motherfuckers, yeah I’m one of them n***as
Right, you’s a bitch, I ain’t one of them n***as
You be diming on the strip, I ain’t one of them n***as
And then you die up on the strip, I ain’t one of them n***as
But supplying up the strip, yeah I’m one of them n***as
[Verse 2: Murda Mook]
Looking at my twitter feed like what the fuck you talking bout
See a n***a Loaded Lux called me out
Man why he show his gun to a killer
And got mad, like he must think that I’m one of them n***as
Different kind of guy, I spit crack, I spit cyanide
Get one dose of this shit and you’ll probably die
Tell bus bring the track round, all these dudes run laps round
Y’all say pardon my back, I say pardon my backdown
We them calm n***as, we let you act wild
When we on it, this thing sing, my mac wowed
Make it hot till it boil my n***a
Cook coke like I cook arroz con pollo my n***a
We deal with straight drop, you do the oil my n***a
And we shared sweaters if I’m gon coil my n***a
Ain’t got time to be worrying bout who is you
I ain’t got peripheral vision, n***a my shooters do (easy!)

[Hook]

[Outro: Busta Rhymes]
Let it be indoctrinated
Those who are skilled in combat
Do not become angered
Those who are skilled at winning
Do not become afraid
Thus the wise win before the fight
While the ignorant fight to win
Appreciate the jewel, fool!
We having fun with this shit!
We establishing the rules of this motherfucking hip hop
Stop looking for excuses n***as
Punishment
Murda Mook
Yeah it’s ok to calm down now
Easy, n***a!