PAPOOSE


Address Me As Mister (remix) Lyrics

[Intro: Busta Rhymes]
Ayo Kayslay, Papoose (huh)
I finna cook some shit in the kitchen with ya'll niggas
Let's go

[Busta Rhymes:]
Busa Bus and Papoose will come and really hurt this
I f**k you niggas up, see none of you niggas serve a
purpose
I hook on niggas like Kareem and jail em like Julius
servants
See these niggas powerless on how we reemarges
So deserving of the title, crown it, whatever you call
it
And though you niggas was havin fun, see we come to
spoil it
Treatin niggas like the shit they are, flush em down
the toilet
Bitch see you can't afford it, see I'm advising you to
forfeit
Gotta come up off it, homie what you doin ain't that
importent
See we don't need what you got plus the street don't
want it
Yo Pap come get these niggas and slap them across the
face
With some more venomous rap, spike the strappers up on
our waist
When we in the place, I know you know he we do this
nigga
If you think you new muthaf**ka, I'm the newest nigga
With the newest money, with the newest album, the
newest label
The newest cars, cribs, roll chains, used to call them
cable
New commercial landscapes, get me a new stable of
bitches
Their thoroughbreds, I'm meticulous and very anal
About how I'm gonna strike and attack you cus I'm able
And give it to you niggas back and white like I'm
interracial
And continue to keep it lyrical just to make them hate
you
Sometimes make me so cynical until I come and stick you
Stick a pitch fork in em, watch while I come to take
them up
To another level, if you sleep, we came to wake em up

[Chrous: Busta Rhymes]
See you might get a blister when we give you the heat
Better address me as mister, see me in the streets
Mr. Papoose, Mr. Busa Bus, this is grown man shit
Repect niggas like they born with it
The hood they always talk with it (you hear them talkin
about us?)
But we the top rank, flawless in our weight class
You niggas don't really want problems, see every time
we come with it
Shit is obvious, you muthaf**kas straight ass

[Papoose:]
Papoose, you can call me Mr. Clientele
My mixtapes make more sales the Nextel
I ain't hard to find, they know where I dwell, hell
Never been a chubby niggas, I'm skinny like twelve 12s
You had that cocaine for so long it smells stale
I make hell sales, my caine GOAT like LL
Rip the smif n wessun with quick aggression
And get the reppin, rip the nigga's neck in
Bang his head in and cave his chest in less than sixty
seconds
Spit the weapon through his intestines
Hit the exit, can't get arrested, it's pig infested
Got sick obsessions, for walking in nigga's sessions
I make illest efforts to disrespect em with different
gestures
My wisdom threatens these wicked peasants with ill
intentions
He said he was laying in the cut, but shit's infected
I got disprefected, I am the sheppard, so spin the
record
I'm representin for this profession I ressurrected
I'm giving belssings within the lessons of his
intentions
This is the essence of my lyrics brethren, Busta Rhymes
is a living legend
I don't know what you acting like you're heartless for
When you know that you're a target like the department
store
Cus Justo gave me the crown, and ya'll knew it
My song's ruthless, your bars truthless, it's all
foolish
Fill you with embaldment fluid, this is ex con music
I'm like the Van [?], I'll show you how a con do it

[Hook]

[Raekwon:]
Blood on the Chef's hatchet, I'm here for the action
Kill a hundred niggas with aspirins and piss in they
caskets
4-5s rip through your glasses, all mine, Mr. Gymnastics
Gimme more time, or visit the blasters
Cus I'm starving, hungry for classy, I'm dead up your
lassy
See it's nothing, press a few buttons, the city's
diasaster
Ayo anthrax em and axe em with sianide acid
Choke em out, escape in the cold and left through Lake
Placid
Stop fronting, know you a pastor, you know I'm a master
I'm like six sixes in traffic, you niggas is taxes,
hardbodies come
Through jurassics
It's all about mausberg lugers, loadin them rachets,
blow them like napkins
Cus I'm elevated at the top of my flowest power
The m-o stay young, fly, and rish like [?] raw child
With transaction, grandmaction, niggas on the stove
maxin
Throw a thousand birds off the road, while my soldiers
catch it
Playin all the lobbies, the Gotti's the red Mazaratis
My colleagues will blow something, show you Karate
We know the code, pot, X and parties, the live section
Keep him on his toes, take off them chromes and pass
them to mami
Cus the feds around us, watchin us, [?] Gottis is
everybody's laundry
We could prbably get more if we hunting, probably
We hang niggas, bang pistols, take a piece of your
finger
Same whistle, you better respect it cus my name sizzle

[Hook]

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