Against All Odds Lyrics by Busta Rhymes

Against All Odds Lyrics

    ft. Flipmode Squad

    [Baby Sham]
    Aiyyo, balls 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

    [Rampage]
    I float so much I get seasick
    Flipmode is the Squad who I beez with
    Who I get plucks with
    And push German V's with
    Rampage I'm psychic I can see shit
    To the next millenium
    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

    [Chorus:]
    FLIPMODE SQUAD
    Here to drop bombs
    AGAINST ALL ODDS
    Still remain gods
    GRIP YOUR ARM
    We always come hard
    THE WORLD IS OURS
    Call a National Guard

    [Rah Digga]
    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 park and 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 I'mperial alliance
    You do the science

    [Spliff Star]
    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

    [Chorus]

    [Lord Have Mercy]
    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
    Who gazey chase
    Fake thugs with lazy aid
    Track marks
    Rap stars
    And a rain of aids

    [Busta Rhymes]
    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 the law

    [Chorus]

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