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[Featuring Busta Rhymes]
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(verse 1 -- Buckshot)
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Buck spread love like the Pope but I never spread false hope
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I bring the bomb squad close
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Rock you with a dose of TNT
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What you ain't believe in me?
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I'm comin' back from of these who be thievin' me
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I'm incredible also edible
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Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview
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Wanna be worldwide but you get with I
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You try, you die
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Don't deny the fact that you got your back blown by bronoculars
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The way I'm rockin' ya and drop toppin' ya
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Nolo go for dolo and we tallyin'
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All my outlaws form a rally and we bomb first fool
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Pull the toll, see what happen if you hesitate
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I cut your blood supply short, it's your fault
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you got caught in the onslaught
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(hook -- Busta Rhymes)
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Yo in the onslaught your lives got caught
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Now we can run the full court all in a blood sport
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And while we hold the fort cut ya like live shorts
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Feel the pressure burn wild like (comin' for you)
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(verse 2)
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I used to sit back and let a lot of clicks
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get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of clicks
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Broke wit' no chips, frontin' in the game wit'
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a little record deal but still drive the same whip
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It's a shame ain't it, the vision that they show you in the videos
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would really make you think that you got the ghetto, oh
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Don't get me wrong, I ain't tryin' to stay
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But yo, at the same time I ain't tryin' to run away
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A lot of family get left behind
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back on the block still left to grind, some still do crime
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some do time, but no matter what
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none of my heads keep an empty shell inside the nine
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Cock back, Buck on the Evil Dee track and make the mind react
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Smoke a fat one listen to Buck and get black
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As a matter of fact
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even if you don't toke you can feel the contact
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(hook)
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(verse 3)
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See you through the window to your rescue I guess you
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heard the rest do all that wackness but in fact it's
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Sounded kinda good 'til you hear this phatness
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You lack this, what scrap this
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Record this, oh my Lord this is the warning sign for y'all
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B.D. wanna ball
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Is you feelin' me? Let me know somethin'
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And if you see me with you smoke well let me smoke somethin'
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Pump it up like he, film me like Spike Lee,
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body count like Ice-T, do it nicely
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Hize to see the B.D. Buckshot rappin' he can make the bomb happen
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All my heads stick to gun clappin'
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don't change, from my street cats to my man Starang
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Bang, bang, yo, can you hang yo
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It's your own fault you got caught up in the rain yo
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now in the onslaught
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(hook) x 3
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-----------------
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Onslaught
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| Black Moon |
