Busta Rhymes
Packin’ Them Things
[Intro: Busta Rhymes]
This sound like some music from mother fucking Fat Albert show and shit
You know what I mean?
Sound like the organs from Fat Albert n***a
What's going on here?

[Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
Look
I be the most incredible, alphabetical unforgettable
God of the spit, that's why I talk shit
Phenomally pursuing most of the heads of most of you n***as
That's why I be the friction and I spark shit
And while you sporadically notice who's the don man
Exploding hoods to emphatically burned farm land
Ha
N***as asking me not to do it sire
Knowing embalming fluid is mixed with my saliva
Need me to move the Maybach, holler at my driver
I'm still voting for Obama despite a couple of priors
I pay you n***as no mind, you a bunch of (?) liars
Now how the frenzy going to stop this
Cause I bring it back like (?) boxes
While I continue to lock this
Pop this off
And then
Drop this on
Every single hood I target
And then corner the market
Stop this homes
You can't watch this
The way I shit on beats and then I fart bitch
I paint lyrical pictures like beautiful art bitch
Trust me
I don't think you wanna start bitch
[Hook: Busta Rhymes]
(I stay packing them things)
Well I give it to n***as everytime
You know its Busta Rhymes
(I stay packing them things)
If a n***a test me when I'm in the hood
I wish a n***a would
(I stay packing them things)
Its Flipmode bitch
We got a Santa Claus bag full of goodies
(I stay packing them things)
With a cargo of dudes in the van
Face covered up with hoodies
(I stay packing them things)

[Verse 2: Busta Rhymes]
I ain't even get to rolling my sleeves up
While I'm fucking a whore like I'm fucking a bitch weave up
Sizzle the street and I ain't even beginning to heat up
Like watching a bum fight how n***as get lyrically beat up
Its Flipmode bitch I love how the game need us
While I'm in Costa Rica
Chilling in a villa with my feet up
You know I love to eat up
Whack mother fuckers
Especially when I get munchies after smoking the weed up
And bust n***as heads 'til they catch convulsions and bleed out
Or bitches get excited and they start staining my seats up
See how I light the streets up
N***as talk tough when this noise around the music
Too loud you need to speak up
Everyday you know I'm knowing
And I constantly be showing motherfuckers how to do it the right way
Every now and then I might play
And show a n***a what it is
And how I handle biz
You might have caught me on a white day
So don't ever shoot a subliminal on my balls
You're probably better off battling Jacob in a fight club
And make me pop the right slug
But its nothing n***as know I'm one of the greatest
Thanks to Joe Budden
[Hook: Busta Rhymes]
(I stay packing them things)
Well I give it to n***as everytime
You know its Busta Rhymes
(I stay packing them things)
If a n***a test me when I'm in the hood
I wish a n***a would
(I stay packing them things)
Its Flipmode bitch
We got a Santa Claus bag full of goodies
(I stay packing them things)
With a cargo of dudes in the van
Face covered up with hoodies
(I stay packing them things)