Letra de 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

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