Artist: Busta Rhymes f/ Lil Wayne, Ludacris
Album:  Throw it Up 12"
Song:   Throw it Up
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Busta Rhymes] + (Ludacris) + {Wayne}
Yeah I'm back to drive you crazy
with the hottest shit in the street, no if ands or maybes
E'rybody gather around, from here to Little Haiti
Cause it's Bust (Luda!) and {Young Weezy baby}
With Flipmode and DTP shit be gettin ugly
Weezy tell 'em what you rep {I represent Young Money!}
Yeah I know you got me homie {Busta Bust I got you}
Real talk {I'm goin in} GET 'EM KILLA!

[Lil Wayne]
I'm 'bout to blast off, call it rocket science
Daddy fat stacks, check my pocket size
And if ya wan' try it, c'mon and try it
You don't want beef I'll put you on a diet
I'm comin through yo' house, with them choppers firin
And all adults die, leave the toddlers cryin
I've been a soldier, never met Private Ryan (uh-uh)
Hey welcome to the jungle and I'm the lion
I'm dippin in my coupe, with the top behind me
I'm not the president but I see cops behind me
Well fuck 'em fuck 'em fuck 'em, and they cannot stop me
So I will be drivin like Ricky Bobby
It's +My Prerogative+ like Whitney's Bobby
I'm skatin on blades like Sidney Crosby (that's hot)
Haha, sharper than a ginsu shawty
You not Beyoncé but I can +Get You Bodied+

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Now you know what we about to do, we goin full throttle
Niggaz go and toss ya champagne and throw a fuckin bottle
Throw it up (you know we got 'em) throw it up (you know we got 'em)
Throw it up (you know we got 'em) throw it up (you know we got 'em!)

[Ludacris]
Yeah, I got 'em, LUDA!
I throw it up like a cap and tassel, I got my rap diploma
I throw it up like the gangs in Southern California
I got them burners on ya, have you lookin at a Russian ruger
Have you lookin like a human torch, and have you lookin like Freddy Krueger
So don't be sleepin on me, this ain't a fuckin dream
I pass the rock to these J's like I'm on they FUCKIN team
But I ain't slangin dope (nope) I slang Luda vision
Hip-Hop's God in these jeans, now that's +True Religion+
You couldn't fill my shoes (nope) you couldn't fill my jockey (nope)
My niggaz fight over ice like we been playin hockey
I hope you get the goal, I hope you get the point
I'm on a ROLL with this paper, I hope you get the joint
I hope you fire it UP, I hope it burn slow
I welcome chicks to my nest, I let these birds know
And eagles fly alone, so I'm 'bout to take FLIGHT
And throw it up like your girl's dress on prom night!

[Chorus]

[Busta Rhymes]
When I spit, niggaz be askin.. "Who dat?"
It be the god, and I know you niggaz really wonder how the hell I.. do dat!
And the way, that I come through and kill every single thing.. when I rhyme
Never mind, niggaz can't compete when I spit and do the beat same time
BRING THE BEAT BACK! My fans'll leave ya fuckin ass leakin
for sayin you nicer than me, hypothetically speakin
Cool & Dre, bring the fuckin beat back for no reason
Rewind it! Niggaz know my rap and know me for always beastin
Okay, when they see me they stutter, niggaz know where I'm from
Skoo-nu-nu-nu-nu, ba-ba-be, like they speakin in tongue (OHH!)
I single-handedly MOVE, like a thousand niggaz kicko
Aroo-roo! Tramplin niggaz like a herd of hippo (nigga!)
When I get hot I pop like oil, that's when they call me Crisco (bitch!)
That's when I seek revenge like the Count of Monte Cristo
Crack niggaz like Nabisco, swallow a fifth of Cisco
A gangsta cat markin territory wherever the piss go
Now that I'm pissy drunk, why the hell you wanna thug and holla?
I'll change that and have you consider studyin Kabala (SHIT!)
They nicknamed me Kamala (HEY) kinda like the Ugandan giant
Flattenin niggaz with my foot, WHO WANNA TRY IT?

[Chorus]

[Busta Rhymes]
When the game was gettin weak and everybody started whinin
And, when the streets needed us we came with perfect timin
Throw it up (you know we got 'em) throw it up (you know we got 'em)
Throw it up (you know we got 'em) throw it up (you know we got 'em!)