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[Featuring Loon] 
No, Flagro 
Uh, what!! 
Yeah, Brand Nu' comin' through 
Long Island, Harlem World, all out, all out 
Let's talk abou tit 
What, yeah, now put ya hands up 
Uh, what, now put ya hands up 
Put ya hands up 
Now get ya back up off the wall 
[Sadat X] 
I'm better feeling than running raw 
Chain gang link I need a shrink 
What y'all niggaz think I'ma do when I get real money 
Iano keys played in series 
Peace to Lil' Cease 
Microphone track board, loose chord, oh Lord 
Promo number one Sadat X had a grenade 
And the have next day I smashed the shit Allie played 
Now we delayed by ninety days 
You better find me anyways 
You better return to the Terrordome, ain't nobody home 
Non-haters play the corner in the elevator 
Crash crews smack the open palm so you don't bruise 
You push a button and what happens nothing 
I push one and there's a man with a gun in the doorway 
I'm in 4A, I been in there all day 
I had some smokes, some bitches and chicken on a slab 
There's enough for everybody so y'all niggaz don't grab 
Chorus: Loon 
Come on, come on, come on, yo 
So get your back up off the wall 
What, I said dance, come on, come on 
So put your hands up 
Stop frontin and pop somethin 
Cornball niggaz stay frontin ain't got nothin 
Mad cause the life I lead, twice ya speed 
Brown-skinned mami, that's the wife I need 
Light that weed, front nigga might just bleed 
Tryin to ball with y'all but I might just flee 
[Lord Jamar] 
The second coming of Christ 
I'll make you run for your life 
It's like a gun up against a knife 
You can never win, when we fight to the end 
I'm tight with the pen 
Don't be going off the head, cause they be blown off the head 
And showin off the skills of the mentally dead 
I do the knowledge before any words get said 
Herbs get me red, hold on, Simply Red 
Pimps be dead in rap, everybody's fed with that 
Y'all could go ahead with that 
I'm trying to show you where my head is at 
Dread be the positive black 
Drop the B, you get lack 
See you when you get back 
Lyrical three-pack, spiritual miracle 
Uhh, Lord Jamar the imperial 
Microphone serial killer, urban guerilla 
You acting mysterious, we out to take this rap shit seriosu 
Slap the taste out of your mouth, then break out 
Chorus 
[Grand Puba] 
Now I'ma put a rush up on molasses 
Breeze on through like easy passes 
Wiggle more asses than aerobic classes 
El kabong, my people blaze them trees up like Cheech and Chong 
Get that ass open like a pair of butt cheeks in thong 
For sure dog, I don't mean to come off pushy 
Blaze your party hot, and have it smelling like D'bussy 
Spit my phlegm and drop my gem 
Collect my wins and copy the Benz with the icy rims 
I be dramatical, mathematical, radical thriller 
The mic killa wreckin more shit than Godzilla 
Matter of fact I'm more iller, knock your shit off the pillar 
The four-wheeler touched every flava but vanilla 
You know my name, my game, so shorty shake that thang 
I get you open like them ball-head niggaz on Rogaine 
Spit my flow all the way from New Ro' 
to Acapulco, white poos brown like cocoa 
Flip flows def like so so 
Chorus

Видео-клип к песне Back Up Off the Wall

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