Basket Case Connections (NY2MTL) Lyrics

[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