Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Busta Rhymes
Busta Rhymes
Vocals
Consequence
Consequence
Vocals
Q-Tip
Q-Tip
Vocals
Casey Benjamin
Casey Benjamin
Organ
Blair Wells
Blair Wells
Guitar
Chris Sholar
Chris Sholar
Acoustic Guitar
Masayuki Hirano
Masayuki Hirano
Piano
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kamaal Fareed
Kamaal Fareed
Songwriter
Trevor Smith
Trevor Smith
Songwriter
Dexter Mills
Dexter Mills
Songwriter
Kerry Minnear
Kerry Minnear
Songwriter
Derek Shulman
Derek Shulman
Songwriter
Philip Shulman
Philip Shulman
Songwriter
Raymond Shulman
Raymond Shulman
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Q-Tip
Q-Tip
Producer
Blair Wells
Blair Wells
Recording Engineer
Gloria Kaba
Gloria Kaba
Assistant Engineer
Jeremy Lubsey
Jeremy Lubsey
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Vlado Meller
Vlado Meller
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills Dream about Bugattis and other four-wheels They say Illuminati and other ordeals Is how my lawyer got me to avoid a raw deal And now it's more real than it is for any other star And that's enough to have you tearing up the mini-bar I should probably get awards when the Emmys are For how I deal with the path like Remy Ma I get in the car like a sniper's on the roof now But don't confuse how you see me, have to move now I got bars like the cypher's in the booth now Ooo, child, things are gonna get easier 'Long as they get my page right on Wikipedia 'Long as they say my name right in the media If you don't, that's a sin like Cincinnati 'Cause ever since I had the polo suit at the Grammys I been spittin' at the camera like Trick Daddy So swag, he could have broke up with IG I ain't surprised that they broke up on IG I got the game on IV Might as well have a live feed Keep a fresh cut from Aunt B So I always match the picture in my ID They packin' Dub C and run with MAC 10 I was still a baby Similac then And what the crack era did to black men It had to be an error if you had a Cadillac then How I rock mine, I throw it up Makin' sure that you niggas all are on the same page Powerful force, you better look both ways Fuck that, I'm chokin' niggas, it's goin' down I'm from a different cloth, we the oracles of the sound Skip town, hit 'em with impeccable pound Lost, found, the way I flood it, niggas gon' drown Rip shit... oh, wait, wait, wait, wait... I gotta do it again, I gotta do it again You already know the script, roundhouse kick She lookin' at me, lickin' her lip Put my arm around her like a bowl of chip with the dip With your bitch, what the fuck, niggas erupt I got the half moon clip, that's banana, a good planner A new anger like a larger Bruce Banner, out the house Nigga, if you open your mouth Damn, nigga, if you open you mouth Fuck the press, I'm leavin' every room in a mess Like herds of bulls with they aprons on and bakin' soda Keep it movin', keep the convo short and bring a case of Henny House of Pain, I control many House of lies, where niggas go run, hide Peep the way the scribe conflict with they real lives (Nigga) Phonetic shit, we go bizarre Bad news for niggas as I go emphatical, radical Mention no animals, roamin' like a czar Every time I blah for the record, the shit splatter The whole data, no bullshit, the boom bapper I pull the gat up, whip the ship, come to bat up When I pull up too niggas even your momma goin' scatter
Writer(s): Trevor Smith, Kamaal Ibn Jonathan Davis Fareed, Dexter Mills Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out