Against All Odds - Busta Rhymes, Flipmode Squad

Ayo, pause your pencils

As hollow tips get in you

Bots cutting to slice your face you

Rhymes is natural

Hold two lives and four wives

Up in the crack capsule

Flipmode cruddy styles has been past you

Rush pass

You couldn’t touch cash

If it was under your nose

Like a mustache

Nigga

What ass

Show your whole cheek

Slugs with no heat

Diamonds that don’t break

You thugs is so sweet

I float so much I get seasick

Flipmode is the Squad who I bees with

Who I get plucks with

And push German V’s with

Rampage I’m psychic I can see shit

'Til the next millennium

You not gon be shit

Scratch your name off the list

Cut your wrist

You know the issue

I’m official

When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you

Flipmode Squad, here to drop bombs

Against all odds, still remain gods

Grup your arm, we always come hard

The world is ours, call a National Guard

Here we go

Any bitch that rhyme wanna flex she ass

I’m stomping all things like I’m plexi-glass

Niggas make way like when they hear sirens

Treat you like parking too close to fire hydrants

All up in the board

Kicking back long islands

Get your wig split first solid defiance

Rah Earth and sun in this Imperial alliance

You do the science

I’m getting money shitting, turn intruders into vixens

Fall off beeper uh-uh niggas stay getting

Dirty nigga for life

That’s how Spliff’s living

Throwing niggas in caskets

Tired of a yellow ribbons

I buck my duck if you touch my one

Rather Jamaican than belly boy make you people for fun

Fat Man’s Son, street educated

The colonel of ghetto jurors, still thug related

Flipmode Squad, here to drop bombs

Against all odds, still remain gods

Grup your arm, we always come hard

The world is ours, call a National Guard

We enemies of three strike felony laws

Gorilla dicking K-Y jelly for whores

Lapdances trap grands without laws

My baby moms, three eighty for your arms

That bust with loud force

The ghetto with us

That bang Makaveli in trucks

That whatever the fuck to give a cheddar in chunks

Fugazi chains

Fake thugs with lazy aid

Track marks

Rap stars

And a raid of aids

Yo, what you want from us

Now visualize more of us

Stay toting under my given flavor from Nauticas

Destroy every arch-rival or any challenger

Make you remember this day

Nigga mark it on your calendar

I’m showing you something

You ain’t saying nothing

My niggas make noise

Like a bunch of volcanoes erupting

None of y’all niggas really wanna war

The type of nigga to crash my plane in your building

In the name of Allah

Flipmode Squad, here to drop bombs

Against all odds, still remain gods

Grup your arm, we always come hard

The world is ours, call a National Guard