Original TV Soundtrack Follow

Yes y'all throw your hands up real high
Let's see where the people in the world is at
Word up, word up, uh, uh, where you at Shorty?
With L L Busta Rhymes check it out

Two big ballers keep the juice blending
Who? Black Ceaser I didn't like the ending
Why? 'Cos we two jiggy asses always making
Too many million dollar affilliations

Abbreviation, L L, period
I'm platinum every time, it's serious
Aeiyo, we serious when we experience millions
High, rolling to the max, extra big willying

Uh, huh, with a third of my deposit
I'll buy your whole crib plus the clothes in the closet
Take your current chickens then take your ex-chickens
Shake it down for papers, hey, now she jump shaking

Gotta keep on making it high
Gotta keep on making it high
Gotta keep on making it high
Gotta keep on making it high

Why you ice-grilling, I'm far from a villian
Two hundred and twenty pounds, you're half shilling

You know the rules of the gizame, milk and top billing

Aeiyo, I think your empty-ass cup needs some refilling
Let me bust my milk on your back, watch you start illing
You know she's willing, cos' honey's a Star Trekker
Clothes coming off like jewels in front of Mecca

Aeiyo, diesel baby girl, bigger than Chubby Checker
In the process of the jolt she might feel the Black 'n' Decker
Reason being, I work my tool right
I handcraft the cake till it's baked just right

Gotta keep on making it high
Gotta keep on making it high
Gotta keep on making it high
Gotta keep on making it high

Just lean left, lean right, lean front, lean back
C'mon, you gotta ride it baby
You gotta shake it, shake it all night baby

Just lean left, lean right, lean front, lean back
C'mon shake it, just shake it
C'mon shake it, just break it

Say what, say what, what Busta Bust, Mr Smith
Flipmode in ill y'all, let's sing a little something for the song

Ladies get up out your seat, seat, seat
C'mon and chill with me, me, me
C'mon baby, you know I'm

Fellas get up out you seat, seat, seat
Don't be ice-grilling me, me, me
Uh, you jealous niggas, change your ways

Busta bust, Mr smith
We on the track, I always spark the lah
I always catch a contact
Aeiyo, stimulation make a fucka wig push back

Like he gotta touch, a bottom here for Mencap
He went from Dreadlocks
To Ceasers, now he called "Cash"
Brothers shaving bums is nasty

Kid so watch that
I be the B U S T A, R H Y M E S full of finesse, lyrically complex
And I'm the double L, C dash O, dash O, L
Period J my leers waiting on the runway, Bust

Yo, aeiyo, yo, I'm Mr You, God
Is it the bashment?
Aeiyo, yo, yo, yes we is a rude bwoy

Mizzy gizzy busy for bissi
Mizzy kizzi let the rhythm dizzi
Just a leeson for you sucker M C's
Cos y'all don't make no rhymes like these, period

Word is bond, ah man
I had a good time with you Mr Smith
Do you think they'll ever recover?

I have no idea, I'm see shits in comas and concussions
It's ridiculous, word up, throw your hands in the air, come on
Just have a good time and wave them around
Throw your hands in the air, word up, word up, word up
Mr Smith and Busta Rhymes get down

Ladies get up out your seat, seat, seat
C'mon and chill with me, me, me
C'mon baby, you know I'm

Fellas get up out you seat, seat, seat
Don't be ice-grilling me, me, me
Uh, you jealous shits, change your ways son

Ah man, splash a little bit of flossing on shits
Ah man, in a happy and fun loving way
You know, splash, yeah, you know that
Like a little bit of ice waters and fuck man

You niggas need to chill down
Put your shades on kid
Cool the fuck off

Put your shades on baby, aight?
Shine, fuckaa put them shades on
Shits leaning, leaning like they deformed or something
Ha, fix your neck, you like like Shaq in that commercial

Yes y'all throw your hands up real high