Contact Blitz

You gots to keep on, the break of dawn shit
Smoking cancer sticks, and you don’t quit
We’ll never never know retore bit
No «What's up X?» The O.E. alcohol
I gets paid somes, I write albums
Sip the coke rums, loop the trope drums
Thirst it down, plums I think of stunts are dunce
My rap labelmates? They all smoke blunts!
Went on a tour once, bus was local
From Albuquerque to like Acapulco
It was Lord J, Sadat, Alamo
Busta and myself, in the back with the O.O.Z
Deep in Cali near the valley where we saw the rains
Sess is the best till all it settles in the brain
And if you ever did, God forbid you did
Get on that bus and do a red eye to Alex Kidd
Word biz, had the whole crew relazing
Boogie Brown with the box, booming new tracks and
Quest wants a stogie, he told some to ask Dinco
He had one more, to best 'em down, now
A keep ??? a push by the backside
Sneaks hit the blacktop, damn I hate that flat top
Just then the bus driver had the nerve to
To say «Stop the smoke» he curving and swerving
He popped junk like the sea sick sales of fuss
Not like we got top post like on that De La bus
This was a Greyhound, the bunks were open
So fuck it, let the motherfucker overdose
We puffed his luck, he wasn’t bullshittin
The next L was litten and hitten, so now he quittin'
We couldn’t stand to stay in San Jose
Plus we had a show in L.A. that same day
He said he’d take us down but he had to shake us down
For 5 yards, between the guards that’s might trife
Mad heads make mad forwns no might like
Let’s ask Busta, wanna rim his white wife?
Planning to hitchhike, a six-oh, one switch
Forces in our midst, on the bust, the boy is one bitch
Niggas got edgy like a knife
Dedicating niggas delight to my man and his wife
You might think that’s a bitch, because here’s the shit
But only one week in Gotham a show at the Ritz
And you don’t quit, 'til the last Philly is lit
You get a buzzed bus driver with a contact blit
And you don’t quit, 'til the last Philly is lit
You get a buzzed bus driver from the contact blit