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Against All Odds Lyrics - Extinction Level Event - Busta Rhymes

Aiyo, 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 

 

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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 millennium, 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 

 

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 

 

Photos 

 

Here we go 

Any bitch that rhyme wanna flex she ass 

I'm stomping all things like I'm Plexiglass 

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 imperial alliance 

You do the science 

 

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 

 

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 

 

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 

 

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 

 

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 

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