15. Outro (Feat. Bun B, Nas, Shyne, Busta Rhymes) (Tha Carter IV)
[Verse 1: Bun B] Yeah… When I step in the spot, motherf-ckers say “who that? ” Big Bun B, but you already knew that Live from the state where they chop it and screw that You hatin’ on the trill OG, where they do that? (for real!) Motherfckers need to get off the dick, man Fall the f-ck back like a bike with no kickstand Get out my mix man, just go’ get you stuck Deeper in the quicksand, with no easy fix, man (damn!) No tricks, man, those is for kids Kush in my cigar, and hoes in the crib Drank, and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge You f-ckin’ with DA so you know what it is I’m sittin’ on the fours that clack Comin’ down candy in the golden ‘Lac We gettin’ to the money like it’s Goldman Sachs And we do it for the pimps that are holding back… let’s go!
[Verse 2: Nas] Look who crept in with automatic weapons, reppin’ QB till the death of him That nigga that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em Track record goes back to “The Essence”, Smack adolescents who ask who the best is I’m nasty like gas from a fat man, attested, I pass it, you gaspin’ for breath and you die fast But I’m like a gastric bypass, Bunch of Nas African actors seemed to get typecast in the same role Since 16 I ain’t grow a day old yet my brain grow, cocaine white Range Rov’ Tats on my body like an art exhibit, I did real good for a project nigga Was once a Bacardi sipper, now it’s Chandon, Fat blunts in the car with strippers Guns in compartments hidden, I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga Blessings, bowed down, respected, chowed down now my food’s digested Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs, bust louder than the noise I just spit Let’s get one thing straight that my crown ain’t for testin’… testin’ Chop heads off like King Henry the 8th, guillotine to ya neck, bitch! I’m a king in this thing, don’t be dumb Been in this shit since ’91 Niggas can’t f-ck with the style I use Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum Calm now, was a wylin’ dude, studied cowards that made power moves Watched Wild Planet seen lions devour food, you can say that’s how I move A monster nigga, and I don’t really like doing songs with niggas There go my nigga Wayne, let them niggas hate I love my nigga Drake say “we ain’t got time to respond to niggas”
[Verse 3: Shyne] I’m a villain, I’m a villain, all that happens in the street Poverty and desperation made me everything I be I’m a shotta, when I pop up with them poppers burn ya block up Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin’ over Gotham Word to Poppa Blood gang, five! It’s that Blood gang, five, but green is the bottom line I run this town, I ain’t gon’ lie, they run they mouth, they ain’t gon’ fight They actin’ like they ain’t gon’ die until I let them llamas fly Flatbush to Bed-do-or-die, from Watts to Larry Hoover Chi Poverty and heroine, it’s no place for a juvenile Put greed in our heart, it’s the green that we want Cash Money is the company and Weezy the boss!
[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes] They say I’m underrated, but un-compete-with-able Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable! And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible! They ask is what I do ever gonna stop, this shit will never end That’s when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth got em sayin’ “There he goes again! ” See now they nominated a nigga to come and flatten everything Now let me dominate it, nigga run And they be knowin’ that I be blackin’ on everything And make it complicated like a nigga constipated with a gun I gotta make it what they want and wake ‘em when I come and shake ‘em And bake ‘em and take ‘em to another place Ain’t no fakin’, ain’t no kind of mistakin’ how I be breakin’ up Everything and be creating a s-s-s-situation when I’m done (Damn!) You see I spit National Treasure,