On the beat, yo I show off, kick, hit with my Nikes,
Too many MCs say they are powerful on the mic
Too many MCs act like bandits
But faced with the new sauce they don't go out on Saturdays anymore
Ouch I don't need a staff or a treble clef
Alone I've always been alone because I come from the basement
I don't have my name written on all the walls
But on all my clothes because I slash like a mother
Listen, stay yourself, don't give an image
Be careful there, you will get the advantage
I work hard, very hard
And there I reap what I have earned,
Like flow and bags of rhymes to throw away
Too many mc say they are powerful on mike
I am engraved on no shoes just on my ring
My posse pushes me places me in the post of boss
Who is the fiercest?
It's the one who sends the sauce
1 for the treble, 2 for the bass
3 for your face, 4 because that I don't wear Adidas
A strong arrival in hip hop
You don't care, one: I don't give a damn
Two: I don't take my pants down
I'm part of the new wave of double-faced rappers
Effective against stubborn stains
Everybody move your body
When busta and all his posse are in the game
Yeah a special shout out to all the mc
Who call themselves too san-pui on the m i c
Chorus:
On the beat yo! I show off, kick and strike with my Nikes
Too many mc say they are powerful on the mike
I have one style weird guy from the fla flex fonk
Kicke with my nike yo!
On the beat yo!
For the bitches yo!
Suck my dick yo!
You know where I live yo!
I have one style weird guy from fla flex fonk
Kicke with my nike yo!
Hey yo! Mayday mayday can someone come and help me?
My level is too high to compare myself to these fags
I am the fonk fonka kadelic called Busta
I sharpen and disguise my rhymes like the locks of a rasta
My style is so strong that the deaf hear me
It makes the mute scream
Dance the kill, rà ©wake the dead
My fucking flow flows even more than a poorly adjusted fucking pussy
Turn off your turntable, man, I feel like you want to strangle
br/>At ease, hotter than embers
From the top of the cliff I weigh because I come from 93
Yeah I come from nowhere
And not ready to reti-par
Place me on the shows
Squat the microphones in the ty-par
Respect the funkakadelic busta flex
I erase the dirty faces with my style and typex
Please yo please don't come and test me
I fine too much so I'm hated
Chorus
My name is Busta Flex therefore respects my cut in effect
I give a dry direct to all the crazy movers who are showing off
Remains true and represents the real hip hop
The one who makes fun of rock and doesn't take down his pants
The h-i-p h-o-p has taken its place in silence
But no one thinks that in France we are moving forward in dance
In the right direction
Yeah so I decided to take the mic
And impose my style
It's not like splashing puddles
There are too many who play pimps
Who deserve slaps
Represent the good, stay true so you don't get robbed
Your method man is too stiff man for that you play biggie
You'll never be hip hop even if you wear baggy tims
And when I'm in the place it's boombastick like shaggy
Wow special big up for my DJ Goldfinger
Who represents for Le Bourget
Here's some real sauce for 1-9-9-6, 1-9-9-7
Fonk busta flex once again has the recipe
On the beat yo listen to that!
Chorus

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