[Greg Nice]Hella hella hella 1997 style, hey hey hey hey
|
What what? Hey hey hey hey
|
Hey hey hey hey hey hey
|
[Busta Rhymes]Greg Nice, Busta Rhymes in the place to be
|
And for the whole entire world to see
|
Fuckin up your whole entire par-ty
|
|
Chorus: Greg Nice, Busta RHymes
|
|
Busta Rhymes and Greg Nice we never fa-il
|
(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
|
My shit stay fresh never ever ever stale
|
(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
|
Foot shock to your ass just like the third ra-il
|
(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
|
Snitches get stitches when they go to ja-il
|
(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
|
|
Verse One: Greg Nice
|
|
Sometimes I feel like Bobby's World
|
Rocked the mic, before jheri curl
|
Single, mingle, no main girl
|
On the low, like Secret Squirrel
|
Uhh! It's time to Patti Duke
|
So shake whatcha mamma gave ya like Luke
|
It's Greg N-I always down to juice
|
Too much Hennesey make ya puke
|
Now I bust on indo dreams
|
Uhh, I don't be fuckin with keys
|
Rock the shell-top, or pin-striped Lee's
|
I could write a song make a hundred G's
|
Girls back in high school, nuthin but a tease
|
Know The same girls call me Mr. Please Please
|
Walkin down the street wit yo'
|
box in your hand... hot damn!
|
I never drove a Lex dog, never drove a Land
|
or a Testarossa, rather puff L's
|
and I sip on mimosa, bedroom wall
|
homegirl have my poster, I'm not surprised
|
That's the way it's supposed to, makes ya hot
|
Much hotter than a toaster, style elevates
|
like a roller coaster
|
|
Chorus
|
|
Verse Two: Busta Rhymes
|
|
Yo, the greatest unsolved mystery
|
of how I rotate your chicken golden rotissiere
|
Freak the cheesecake flow from here to Sicily
|
You really need to get offa my, hickory-dickory
|
The main attraction, even freaks the close caption
|
Snap break a piece off, a little small fraction
|
I still fulfill your dissatisfaction
|
I'm in the process, of completing a transaction
|
Huh, Carnegie Hall, like a opera singer nigga
|
Still doin the yes y'all, uhh!
|
Today we bust guns in the future we bustin lasers
|
Out of range in case you tried to reach me through my pager
|
I'm bout to blaze ya, with the flows that will amaze ya
|
Hot to death nigga, call me Smokin Joe Frazier
|
Seal up the box and present the closed casket
|
Busta Rhymes got the boombastic fruit basket
|
Bend your ass back, stretch you like elastic
|
More drastic when I be feelin fantastic, uhh!
|
Caught the chills stack the large bills barbeque on the grill
|
Me and my niggaz grant wills
|
Niggaz talkin shit but they ain't got no skills
|
Lookin like they full of shit your niggaz named you no frills
|
Don't let me catch you takin for granted
|
When my lyrical cause will leave y'all niggaz stranded
|
Distributed by, Warner Elektra and Atlantic
|
Niggaz thought they could fly, but really crash landed
|
Hah, when I'm in the place I'm up in your house
|
All y'all corny motherfuckers need to shut your mouth!
|
|
Chorus
|
|
[Greg Nice]
|
If you won't te-ll, I won't te-ll
|
If you won't te-ll (I said that I won't te-ll)
|
I say if you won't te-ll...
|
|
-----------------
|
You Won't Tell, I Won't Tell
|
Busta Rhymes |