N. T. – Q-Tip

[Q-Tip]
for real though who really got sent
flown on the edge got the ledge hangin’ out of the window
bird chest niggas witcha (winderous fearaf?)
fuck around you’ll be (hemps meat) inside of a meal sack
puny little bucks better hit the jake
but that doesn’t mean nothin to the heart within
you cramped up you and your team I’m amped up
and you asses can’t dib me bead
my shine what the fuck is on your mind?
Little weakling rappers better hit the grind
Other brothers ain’t motivated they can’t do it
Not only did i penetrate it I ran through it
My music comes on and we march at the dance
Inside of your mind or inside of my pants?
Musical intention that we have is vast
You sick? Drink a NyQuil well i’m dead on your ass
Oh well then here comes the gellatiin
Tips on some sugars but you yap on your sellin’ friends
Now your party is completely blown
Real name is Kamal i’m in completely zone
It’s rap time for you that means nap time
Preachin from my joint what the fuck I’ma clap mine
Singin songs of 6 pence it’s intense
surpise your ass at the end like the sixth sense
heavy hitters knockin shit out the park
you couldn’t even really play tell me why did you start
spittin sharp blades laced with bleach
you wanna play around kid I’m not a walk at the beach
a stroll in the park or your fuckin playground
put on your headphones tell me how grenades sound
put on your walkmase and go underneath the town
Q-Tip abstract how I gets down

Chorus: [Busta Rhymes]
All my bitches, dance if you know that you dam sure
Let your pussy drip on the dance floor if you wanna
[Q-Tip]
get down
[Busta Rhymes]
fuck that niggas that bust gats
better let em in ‘fore they rush that cuz they wanna
[Q-Tip]
get down
[Busta Rhymes]
blick shit piano sick shit
[Q-Tip]
get down
[Busta Rhymes]
chill you can get off my dick and
[Q-Tip]
get down
[Busta Rhymes]
while I’m on the hook get on your good foot
and blow up the spot for all of you niggas cuz that’s how we
[Q-Tip]


Lyric N. T. – Q-Tip