[Greg Nice] Hella hella hella 1997 style, hey hey hey hey What what? Hey hey hey hey Hey hey hey hey hey hey [Busta Rhymes] Greg Nice, Busta Rhymes in the place to be And for the whole entire world to see Fuckin up your whole entire par-ty
Chorus: Greg Nice, Busta RHymes
Busta Rhymes and Greg Nice we never fa-il (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll) My shit stay fresh never ever ever stale (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll) Foot shock to your ass just like the third ra-il (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll) Snitches get stitches when they go to ja-il (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
Verse One: Greg Nice
Sometimes I feel like Bobby's World Rocked the mic, before jheri curl Single, mingle, no main girl On the low, like Secret Squirrel Uhh! It's time to Patti Duke So shake whatcha mamma gave ya like Luke It's Greg N-I always down to juice Too much Hennesey make ya puke Now I bust on indo dreams Uhh, I don't be fuckin with keys Rock the shell-top, or pin-striped Lee's I could write a song make a hundred G's You went back to high school, nuthin but a tease Know I got stones, call me Mr. Please Please Walkin down the street wit yo' box in your hand... hot damn! I never drove a Lex dog, never drove a Land or a Testarossa, rather puff L's and I sip on mimosa, bedroom wall homegirl have my poster, I'm not surprised That's the way it's supposed to, makes ya hot Much hotter than a toaster, style elevates like a roller coaster
Chorus
Verse Two: Busta Rhymes
Yo, the greatest unsolved mystery of how I rotate your chicken golden rotissiere Freak the cheesecake flow from here to Sicily You really need to get offa my, hickory-dickory The main attraction, even freaks the close caption Snap break a piece off, a little small fraction I still fulfill your dissatisfaction I'm in the process, of completing a transaction Huh, Carnegie Hall, like a opera singer nigga Still doin the yes y'all, uhh! Today we bust guns in the future we bustin lasers Out of range in case you tried to reach me through my pager I'm bout to blaze ya, with the flows that will amaze ya Hot to death nigga, call me Smokin Joe Frazier Seal up the box and present the closed casket Busta Rhymes got the boombastic fruit basket Bend your ass back, stretch you like elastic More drastic when I be feelin fantastic, uhh! Caught the chills stack the large bills barbeque on the grill Me and my niggaz grant wills Niggaz talkin shit but they ain't got no skills Lookin like they full of shit your niggaz named you no frills Don't let me catch you takin for granted When my lyrical cause will leave y'all niggaz stranded Distributed by, Warner Elektra and Atlantic Niggaz thought they could fly, but really crash landed Hah, when I'm in the place I'm up in your house All y'all corny motherfuckers need to shut your mouth!
Chorus
[Greg Nice] If you won't te-ll, I won't te-ll If you won't te-ll (I said that I won't te-ll) I say if you won't te-ll...