National Treasure - Busta Rhymes

We gotta dance, nigga
Niggas, do your successful dance right now
Bitches, come dance with successful niggas
Let's go, hahaha
Yeah
Shit
Yeah
Yeah
Look

Back at the nicest
Everything about me at this moment is only the cause of crisis
Better protect this national treasure only because I'm priceless
Like the score, will Peter Roll you, I only come pair of dices
You get it? (Uh-huh), roll you like dices? (Yeah)
Try to refrain from talkin' shit, tryna be more righteous
Fuck that, it's dragon season, I'ma cut you up into slices
I'm back to simple shit more than likely to shift the climates
Motherfucker, you's a pest, little jester, I'll smack your highness (Huh)
Infect just like a germ and I'll quickly attack the sinus
A vision is forgiven of those who be the blindest
Little mindless motherfuckers and those who thought they could try this (Hah)
Now die with all the rest of my foes and then rewind this (Huh)
Select them niggas' bearers, then toast to those that I ride with
And while we're killin' you all with kindness (Hah)
Dependin' on the victim, there's a difference in all the prices (Huh)
Know everything 'bout your children and where your wife is
Pull up and knock you off, leave your body until your life slip
Put the squeeze on you niggas, tighten you like a vice grip (Uh-huh)
Then eat a meal at Mastro's, 'fore I bounce, leave a nice tip (Let me leave a nice tip)
Even before that, I probably'll take a nice sip
Of that Louis XIII, shorty kissin' me with her nice lips
She walk in front the god while I'm watchin' her nice hips
Enough of that, back to fuckin' up every night, bitch
Yes, I got that heroin that's givin' the fiends a nice itch
That demon time, I get wicked like poltergeist, shit
Triathlete how I ride the beat like a cyclist
Murder niggas with these bars like I'm cuttin' 'em with a knife quick (Oh, shit)
Benjamin Button, young Bus is back, don't you like this? (Uh-huh)
When you're strong in the feeling, no need to even write this
From the era of soundin' like yourself, please don't even bite this
A prophet, prophesize the predictions like I'm a psychic
I fuck your bitch even if she be actin' a lil' dykish
It's tough love, I continue to beat you niggas with guidance
'Fore I feed the street the smell, I add seasoning and some spices (Uh-huh)
My style been always next level, never needed a stylist (I never needed 'em)
Accept this loan so you can stop actin' so fuckin' childish
Aggressive with the spit, I ain't never stoppin' the violence
Done gave you niggas heat like I gave the street on consignment
Dodge a bitch nigga like potholes while whippin' without a license
And torture niggas bad like I'm rippin' your fuckin' eyelids
And leave a legacy so lethal, they talk about shit that I did
We had 'em throwin' couches like niggas knew the assignment
Then I blanked and dropped the microphone, leavin' the room in silence