Come on Down

When I'm in motion, it's just like the flow of the ocean

The weight of the words swerve and curve

My style flexes bigger than the state of Texas

Quick as a Lamborghini, smooth as a Lexus

I guess that makes me the top of the line

Oh, yes, I'm the most prime of all time

'Cause as soon as I pick up the mic and

Begin, and the lyrics just start

To flowing, ahem-ahem, coughing couldn't stop me from going

On with the rapture, so that I can capture

Your mind with state of the art music made to adapt to

To knowledge, the God on the groove

Because when my tongue moves, I just love that I'm smooth

Do it with these and in times I leave reason

To give 'em a little of the flavor that please

As I school in the who in pursuin', and doin', and reignin' again

And the gutter, and stutter, and

Killin', and chillin', collectin' the rent, and

Jammin', and slammin', and, damn, it's

Too much for one mind to comprehend

A pure blend, the way that I make words mend
And the way that I be doin' rappers in
Michael Bivins couldn't make these Boyz II Men
I play somethin' verbally, capable to murder the
Average MC; the tough ones I'll burn third degree
And if you're thinkin' that I'm takin' a beatin'
You're sure to see the Pink Panther speakin'
I'm a native New Yorker, I pitch a lot of porker
When I get my ride, I be the grill squawker
Tip's a smooth talker; I love Alice Walker
So get off the dills and step back, you little hawker
Better yet, you hooker; you want to show, I book ya
The highest way I took ya; is you's a good looker?
Queens is residential; I make the presidentials
Over instrumentals, I utilize the mentals
First saw Big Daddy at the place called Union Square
If you went in by yourself, it was a terror
See, I could do that 'cause my crew is kinda phat
Outside we had the toolies; out West you call 'em gats
It's that, 'oh, thanks' chat; well, let me drop some more shit
Bring your bats and balls, and please don't forfeit
'Cause you won't get away, your status will be stank
You can ride with me, G; I'm goin' to the bank
To meet up with Kane, up on Dollar Lane
You get the idea 'cause page times is near
So, rappers, see, they bug 'cause they really can't handle
Position from the rappin' 'cause some of them be slackin'
Not in this sport of thought; we block out the devil
The three different flavors; you know we on the level
Check it out, uh! As I come down and get dumb
Yes, roughneck swingin' along with the drum
Swimmin' in the track, retaliatin' thorough is how
I react; Busta Rhymes will attack
As you feel the pain, bass kick impacts to the brain
Gotta make a mega migraine
What up to the Big Daddy and Tip
My trip, flip the rhyme, then I dip
Hey, hip-hop, cool, bust the interlude
Whack, do ya on the stage gettin' booed
This structure - it takes, bust the angle of three different flavors
On a young raider chalk; well, that's my vocal fader
Keep my volume on extra boom!
All the braids in my neck symbolizes that I want room
Word up, huh! Here I am, damn
Dragon slayer stackin' layer after layer
This jam will be ran while the record flim-flam
Wiggle your front pram, to the runnin' man
Sam, Busta, Rhymes, comin' on time
L.O.N.S. did rip a new design
Flavor one; taste the unborn baby
Flip before you move or catch a bad one, baby
Chiggy change chump, the over-sized puff
Busta pump you and the love, and then I rump
Emotional steer point for the wild
Busta buck wild, musically direct from Strong Isle
Unload, catch you like smell later
Dig on your taste of the third flavor, rarah!
Rarah! Direct from the lungs of the dragon, uh!