The Onslaught - Black Moon, Busta Rhymes

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Shit hit your chest like sess

Each and every time

(Whattup nigga?) Yeah whattup nigga?

(Y'all niggas chillin?) The Sun don’t chill nigga

Hate y’all little niggas

Listen to this right here motherfucker what?

Knahmsayin, shit be kinda close

Hittin you up with some real shit, feel this nigga

Buck spread love like the Pope, but I never spread false hope

I bring the bomb squad close, rock you with a dose

Of TNT, niggas ain’t believe in me?

I’m comin back for all them niggas who be thievin me

I’m incredible, also edible

Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview

Wanna be worldwide, but you can’t fuck with I

You try, you die;

don’t deny the fact that you got your back

Blown by binoculars, the way I’m rockin ya

And drop-toppin ya, dough low go for dolo in Cali

All my Outlawz form a rally and we _Bomb First_ nigga

Pull the trigga, see what happen if you hestitate

And cut yoour blood supply short

The bloodsport, the motherfuckin onslaught

-] Busta Rhymes

Yo, now in the onslaught, y’all niggas got caught

Now we can run a full court all in a bloodsport

And while we hold the fort, cut ya like live shorts

Feel the pressure burn a nigga like a Newport!

Comin for you

I used to sit back, and let a lot of shit

Get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of shit

A lot of fake niggas, frontin in the game with

A little record deal but still drive the same whip

Damn shame ain’t it?

The vision that they show you

In they videos’ll make you think them niggas moved out the ghetto

Oh?

Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t tryin to stay

But shit, at the same time I ain’t tryin to run away

A lot of family is left behind

A lot of my niggas is left to grind, some still do crime

Some do time, but, no matter what

None of my niggas keep an empty shell inside the nine

Cockback, fuckin up the Evil Dee track and make the mind react

Smoke a phat one listen to Buck and get black

As a matter of fact

Even if you don’t smoke you can feel the contact

Comin for you

Jump through the window to your rescue I guess you

Heard the rest do, all that rap shit but in fact it

Sounded kinda good until I let you hear this phat shit

You lack shit, nigga track this

Record this, oh my lord this is the warnin sign for y’all

B.D.

wann ball;

is you feelin me?

Let me know somethin

And if you see me lookin sober, let me smoke somethin

Pump it up like D, film me like Spike Lee

Bodycount like Ice-T, do it nicely

Nice to see, that nigga Buck.shot.

rappin

Fuck it, I’mma make it happen

All my niggas stick to gunclappin, don’t change

From my street niggas up to my nigga Starang

Bang bang nigga, can you hang, nigga?

It’s your fault you got caught in the rain, nigga