Lyrics Against All Odds - Busta Rhymes, Flipmode Squad

Against All Odds - Busta Rhymes, Flipmode Squad
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Against All Odds, artist - Busta Rhymes. Album song Extinction Level Event: The Final World Front, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.07.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Elektra, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English

Against All Odds

Ayo, pause your pencils
As hollow tips get in you
Bots cutting to slice your face you
Rhymes is natural
Hold two lives and four wives
Up in the crack capsule
Flipmode cruddy styles has been past you
Rush pass
You couldn’t touch cash
If it was under your nose
Like a mustache
Nigga
What ass
Show your whole cheek
Slugs with no heat
Diamonds that don’t break
You thugs is so sweet
I float so much I get seasick
Flipmode is the Squad who I bees with
Who I get plucks with
And push German V’s with
Rampage I’m psychic I can see shit
'Til the next millennium
You not gon be shit
Scratch your name off the list
Cut your wrist
You know the issue
I’m official
When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you
Flipmode Squad, here to drop bombs
Against all odds, still remain gods
Grup your arm, we always come hard
The world is ours, call a National Guard
Here we go
Any bitch that rhyme wanna flex she ass
I’m stomping all things like I’m plexi-glass
Niggas make way like when they hear sirens
Treat you like parking too close to fire hydrants
All up in the board
Kicking back long islands
Get your wig split first solid defiance
Rah Earth and sun in this Imperial alliance
You do the science
I’m getting money shitting, turn intruders into vixens
Fall off beeper uh-uh niggas stay getting
Dirty nigga for life
That’s how Spliff’s living
Throwing niggas in caskets
Tired of a yellow ribbons
I buck my duck if you touch my one
Rather Jamaican than belly boy make you people for fun
Fat Man’s Son, street educated
The colonel of ghetto jurors, still thug related
Flipmode Squad, here to drop bombs
Against all odds, still remain gods
Grup your arm, we always come hard
The world is ours, call a National Guard
We enemies of three strike felony laws
Gorilla dicking K-Y jelly for whores
Lapdances trap grands without laws
My baby moms, three eighty for your arms
That bust with loud force
The ghetto with us
That bang Makaveli in trucks
That whatever the fuck to give a cheddar in chunks
Fugazi chains
Fake thugs with lazy aid
Track marks
Rap stars
And a raid of aids
Yo, what you want from us
Now visualize more of us
Stay toting under my given flavor from Nauticas
Destroy every arch-rival or any challenger
Make you remember this day
Nigga mark it on your calendar
I’m showing you something
You ain’t saying nothing
My niggas make noise
Like a bunch of volcanoes erupting
None of y’all niggas really wanna war
The type of nigga to crash my plane in your building
In the name of Allah
Flipmode Squad, here to drop bombs
Against all odds, still remain gods
Grup your arm, we always come hard
The world is ours, call a National Guard

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NameYear
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Get Low Remix ft. Elephant man, Busta Rhymes, Ying Yang Twins 2003
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There's Not a Problem My Squad Can't Fix ft. Flipmode Squad 2007
Touch It 2005
Here We Go Again ft. Flipmode Squad 2000
Everyday ft. Cory Gunz, Birdman, Busta Rhymes 2012
Whatever You Want ft. Flipmode Squad 1997
Blow A Million Racks 2020
Like A Pimp ft. Twista, Busta Rhymes 2002
Just for You ft. Flipmode Squad 2008
We Could Take It Outside ft. Flipmode Squad 2009
This Means War!! ft. Ozzy Osbourne 2009
Beast ft. The Hustle Standard, Busta Rhymes, KXNG Crooked 2015
How We Do It Over Here ft. Missy Elliott 2005
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Artist lyrics: Busta Rhymes
Artist lyrics: Flipmode Squad