Busta Rhymes - Tough Guy lyrics

[Busta Rhymes] Ayo it's the immaculate conception Bus a Bus himself And nuttin other than the godfather, spectacular X to the Zizzle That's what the f** it is, 'nuff said Yeah, yeah, yeah I wanna see you motherf**ers put your hands up Stretch b**h like you doin aerobics motherf**er, yeah [Hook: Busta Rhymes] Thought you was a tough guy? When I put one right in ya head, now tell me what you think you is now (A top dollar biller, a Rottweiler, a k**er Slap the sh** out a n***a tryin to copy my style) [Busta Rhymes] I got cars (many) switches (many) hoes and (many) b**hes (Many) bodies that's buried in holes of many ditches (Many) many homes, plenty chrome up on my whip (Plenty) stop for you make me run up on your block and co*k the semi Ready, any, n***a front I hold it steady I (co*k) back (pop) the ratchet and spill your spaghetti Properties or blocks, we control 'em (Many, many) Glocks know how I k** all your soldiers Freddy My machete, will cut n***as like I ain't really like 'em Then carve a n***a meat deep like I'm k**in a bison Tyson, animal instinct the way I will beat you Got (many) shots and (plenty) spots for them bullets to eat you See through, them holes them bullets'll leave in between you It seems you, got left to die slow all up inside the venue [Hook] [Xzibit] Orangutangin slangin, I'm hangin over the edge I rock two 40 Glocks, I call 'em Barney and Fred I stay hungry like I'm only fed water and bread The king of the castle get at you, screamin off with ya head Brutal bustin, it's the X to the Z, we chart climbin You see my name next to that diamond, it's all timin Hit you in the stomach, with somethin your face and feet'll Be touchin to have your bones start crackin and bustin To my women who be workin them jeans with fat a**es Rich Itala heels, Roberto Cavali gla**es Come to my hideout, let me pimp your ride out Hit your backside, tear your spine out and slide out Yeah, cause my grind don't quit I'm a walkin franchise with them extra clips I keep the bread roll thick, do lines so sick That you can cut 'em with a razor blade, sniff the sh**, come on [Hook] [Busta Rhymes] I tell you (no lie) b**h n***a you (gon' die) k** or be k**ed or get bodied just because you (walked by) n***a be still 'fore the trigger go off and a (shot fly) And the sh**'ll be ill, if the shot turn your stomach to a (pot pie) n***a we spill, a little liquor for the homie muthaf**a (We still) Will make a n***a leak blood, 'til he need a (Refill) You try to be a tough guy, and complicate what I build Somebody don't beat the sh** out this muthaf**a (We will) [Xzibit] Asthmatic, dramatic, fold you like a Kraftmatic Heavy metal press hittin your chest like a train wreck Command respect, throw it one time for your set on deck n***as you never forget I set up precedents, homie you never snitch, hide the evidence Dummies dig ditches, they dyin for dead presidents The big screen make 'em seem large like an elephant But in real life they so soft and so delicate [Hook]