Basket Case

Connections NY2MTL

Basket Case


[Mr. Q]  
Yeah, yeah. Check it out. Yo, yo, yo  
[CHORUS: Mr. Q]  
It's the connection  
It's the connection  
It's the connection  
It's the connect son  
It's the connection  
It's the connection  
It's the connection  
It's the connect son  

Mr. Q and Mikey Styles, shit is live  
Yeah, yeah, yo  

[Verse 1: Mr. Q]  
So watch the story of a young thug  
Niggas is busting  
Niggas is trying to get they hand on our cheddar, but whatever  
Part of my mission, is to reach my destinatino  
Son, you with me? Aight, then let's make it happen  
Yo with this rap shit, I'm in it  
I worry y'all niggas stick it and bring it  
A lot of niggas talk about the next nigga  
Is kyou real or are you faking jacks?  
Y'all niggas ain't live  
The whole way niggas is standing in the pair of fly ties  
Niggas bringing the drama  
My niggas Deeper than the Mobb  
Bring the shit like you want it  
You can't bust me  
I'm like the holy son, the son of Jehovah  
??? niggas puch your Range Rover  
Put y'all to sleep  
You try to creep after seeing niggas freed you  
I'll leave you with a death wish  
Your peoples miss you thinking you're alive  
My niggas kick your ass for a ride  
Now you gone, dead  
These niggas took your head  
Instead of fucking with us you better get with us  
And be the last nigga thinking that you got through  
And defeat you, you feel offended, then money bring it  
I take no shorts, I leave you niggas on a crusty cross  
While your priest bother calling  
Has a sly trade of where my crew is from  
The heart of Bushwick  
I bring it back to Allah  
'Cause niggas make you cry if you front on some bullshit  
But still you fronted  
Now you bump heads with real niggas  
You don't want it  
But yo, you got disrespected  
Hit you on the spot, must respect it  
You got rejected  
That's what you get when you fuck with rap  
With the real niggas  
Nigga you get his cap peeled, shit is real son  
Yeah, yeah, yo, yo  
Thug bust a slug  
Niggas don't give a fuck son  
If ya want it, then you bring it  
Yo, yo  
Thug bust a slug  
Niggas don't give a fuck son  
If ya want it, then you bring it  

[Verse 2: Mikey Styles]  
Welcome, on the East side of things  
We 'bout the dookie links, diamond rings and things  
Head come around, try throw foul swings  
Back stabbing enemies, claim defending  
Never shake hands with a crooked wanna be  
Only real niggas feel the true energy  
So feel the vibe nigga  
Hit ya kind of red  
Represent yours, time to make this shit shine  
'Cause rappers that be looking from the side  
Then they go and party to heads that's always live  
Ain't fakers whose be down with us, because we bust  
Criticize the rappers have had enough of what we say  
Mad love to niggas who live what we say  
East, West, North, South niggas all day  
We gonna bust your ear drums  
Call you dun, son  
You know how we do  

[CHORUS]  
[Mr. Q] Mr. Q and Mikey Styles, yeah, yeah, yeah  
Yo, yo young thug busting slugs  
Niggas don't give a fuck  
If ya want it son then bring it  
Young thug busting slugs  
Niggas don't give a fuck  
If ya want it, then you bring it  
[Mikey Styles]  
Yo, yo  
Let's take it to the streetside, the real side  
So don't move an inch, don't even flinch  
Just grab you bag of money  
Now it's time you represent  
Ain't nothing changed, the crew is stilll snatching ends  
I'm chilling, sipping Shon Dom's(sp?)  
You know how we do  
I get my buzz on  
[Mr. Q]  
It's the connect son  
It's the connect son  
It's the connect son  
It's the connects  
It's the connection  
It's the connect son  
It's the connect son  
It's the connect son  
Niggas know better not to run this nigga Q  
My shit, is lyrical when I drop it on  
This shit is ludicris, I plant them in tears  
So a lot of niggas out there don't like my style dun  
Fuck a man, I'm going underground  
So listen to my sound  
Word is bond son, niggas is dumb  
Pass me the gun, fuck ya beef and ya speech  
Come clean in every scene  
Try to make it on my own  
Dukes throw up, they say she try to lose me  
I got crazy drama  
Can count on my mama  
I'm going insane, got fucking hoes in my brain  
Trying to maintain, buy yo I still a fucking mess  
I'm stressed, now I'm smoking cease  
Reality got my mind, you know what I'm saying  
It's the connection