[Greg Nice] Hella hella hella 1997 style  hey hey hey hey
 What what? Hey hey hey hey
 Hey hey hey hey hey hey
 [Busta Rhymes] Greg Nice  Busta Rhymes in the place to be
 And for the whole entire world to see
 Fuckin up your whole entire par ty

 Chorus: Greg Nice  Busta RHymes

 Busta Rhymes and Greg Nice we never fa il
 (You won't te ll  I won't te ll)
 My shit stay fresh never ever ever stale
 (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
 Foot shock to your ass just like the third ra-il
 (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)
 Snitches get stitches when they go to ja-il
 (You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)

 Verse One: Greg Nice

 Sometimes I feel like Bobby's World
 Rocked the mic, before jheri curl
 Single, mingle, no main girl
 On the low, like Secret Squirrel
 Uhh! It's time to Patti Duke
 So shake whatcha mamma gave ya like Luke
 It's Greg N-I always down to juice
 Too much Hennesey make ya puke
 Now I bust on indo dreams
 Uhh, I don't be fuckin with keys
 Rock the shell-top, or pin-striped Lee's
 I could write a song make a hundred G's
 You went back to high school, nuthin but a tease
 Know I got stones, call me Mr. Please Please
 Walkin down the street wit yo'
 box in your hand... hot damn!
 I never drove a Lex dog, never drove a Land
 or a Testarossa, rather puff L's
 and I sip on mimosa, bedroom wall
 homegirl have my poster, I'm not surprised
 That's the way it's supposed to, makes ya hot
 Much hotter than a toaster, style elevates
 like a roller coaster

 Chorus

 Verse Two: Busta Rhymes

 Yo, the greatest unsolved mystery
 of how I rotate your chicken golden rotissiere
 Freak the cheesecake flow from here to Sicily
 You really need to get offa my, hickory-dickory
 The main attraction, even freaks the close caption
 Snap break a piece off, a little small fraction
 I still fulfill your dissatisfaction
 I'm in the process, of completing a transaction
 Huh, Carnegie Hall, like a opera singer nigga
 Still doin the yes y'all, uhh!
 Today we bust guns in the future we bustin lasers
 Out of range in case you tried to reach me through my pager
 I'm bout to blaze ya, with the flows that will amaze ya
 Hot to death nigga, call me Smokin Joe Frazier
 Seal up the box and present the closed casket
 Busta Rhymes got the boombastic fruit basket
 Bend your ass back, stretch you like elastic
 More drastic when I be feelin fantastic, uhh!
 Caught the chills stack the large bills barbeque on the grill
 Me and my niggaz grant wills
 Niggaz talkin shit but they ain't got no skills
 Lookin like they full of shit your niggaz named you no frills
 Don't let me catch you takin for granted
 When my lyrical cause will leave y'all niggaz stranded
 Distributed by, Warner Elektra and Atlantic
 Niggaz thought they could fly, but really crash landed
 Hah, when I'm in the place I'm up in your house
 All y'all corny motherfuckers need to shut your mouth!

 Chorus

 [Greg Nice]
 If you won't te-ll, I won't te-ll
 If you won't te-ll (I said that I won't te-ll)
 I say if you won't te-ll