You Busta - KXNG Crooked

When I enter the mist

I’m the reason that the pendulum shifts

You wouldn’t right with a intricate twist if I didn’t exist

I’m the difference

You know I’m death I give you a kiss if you slippin'

When I’m in the room I make lyricist dig deeper

Open they notebook look over they shoulder

And see the Grim Reaper

People done stole my rhymes so many times

I done heard my lines in nine battle raps and ten features

Six Funk Flex freestyles, hold it now

Rappers y’all be calling the GOAT be using a stolen style

From the golden child

It’s like I went to Fogo de Chão

Crooked’s ready to beef with the Gods I’m eating holy cow

I turn your Mount Rushmore into a volcano

Flow hotter than lava you nada but it’s all bueno

Y’all actors like John Stamos and Clark Gable

The dark angel with a COB flag singing the Star-Spangled

Bustas

Flipmode

I been flippin' for fifty one weeks and my shit’s cold

Dizz done flipped fifty one beats it’s a big load

You can’t hear bars like these on a hit song

I rhyme

Busta

Flipmode

I’m on some forever shit I’ma never get old

I’m on some eloquent intelligent ghetto shit

Mixed with black excellence

Talking that yellow brick road like

Diana Ross I am a boss

No more smoke talk unless it’s from the Porche

Cayenne exhaust

(Skrrt)

Jingle bells fuck your single sells

I don’t mingle well

With mainstream artists I see a male Tinker Bell

With a dress on and press on fingernails we can tell

You’ll never be Chappelle

You ain’t willing to lose money just to keep yourself

We excel we prevail be ourselves

'Fore I lay with you devils I rather sleep in hell

New slaves drinking out of massa’s fountain

Can’t handle freedom well

Batch of rappers from here to Minneapolis

I slap 'em backwards my spit is immaculate

No rapping after

My city is hazardous I pack a clapper

I’m sick as a masochist

Slashing his own Adam’s apple for sexual pleasure

The Weeklys are a intellectual treasure

That effect you forever same texture as leather

It’s rough

Busta

Flipmode

I been flippin' for fifty one weeks and my shit’s cold

Dizz done flipped fifty one beats it’s a big load

You can’t hear bars like these on a hit song

I rhyme

Busta

Flipmode

I’m on some forever shit I’ma never get old

I’m on some eloquent intelligent ghetto shit

Mixed with black excellence

Talking that yellow brick road like

Diana Ross I am a boss

No more smoke talk unless it’s from the Porsche

Cayenne exhaust

(Skrrt)

Yeah

I couldn’t shout everybody out

But I love all y’all

One week left!