Chorus: Busta Rhymes
 You can live true baby  you can live trife
 Whatever way you chose you got to leave your life
 Aiyyo you're running out of time  and you bout to cross
 The finish line  the finish line

 (repeat Chorus)

 Verse One: Busta Rhymes

 And  yo! I can't afford to waste a second
 Steppin with my eyes on niggaz checkin on my weapons
 Every millisecond, motherfuckers say they true to this
 But when they grab the microphone they shit sound like stupidness
 *beatboxing* Hah, mad to pull another vicious scandal
 I know that you can't handle when I flip from other angles now
 Feel my hot wax, burning from my melting candles
 You can't take the heat, so you switch from boots to wearing sandals
 This is for example! Shit will make a nigga curse
 When worse comes to worse, you be the first to disperse now
 We don't BELIEVE your man was living like that
 Hoping to find that nigga see exactly where his heart was at
 It's a damn shame how Son know your style, know your name
 Watch how he pull your file, make you wish you never fuckin came NOW
 Even the hardest motherfucker has his final day
 So kill that shit you talkin, and be about your fuckin way

 Chorus 2X

 Verse Two: Busta Rhymes

 Yo, everyday I see you on the block smoking
 With a bunch of niggaz scoping on how they can split you WIDE open
 You don't even know what's going on up in your circle
 Awful murder niggaz itch to leave you black blue and purple
 Ahh, your man came to put you on and tried to make you bleed
 Hit you with some shit that left you flippin mad in disbelief
 You just can't believe that niggaz that you smoke with is on it
 And the way they rass they really got to bust yo' shit!
 Thought your man was joking, paid no attention to the situation
 Got with your crew and just continued smoking
 Now your man sit and watch you panic
 In any other situation you'd be fronting like you gigantic
 I guess all that fronting is your main talent
 It's apparent, he can see right through you like you transparent
 Hah, aiyyo you need to watch your back you running out of time
 Watch your step, cuz you only inches from the finish line

 Chorus 2X

 Verse Three: Busta Rhymes

 Now, there's about a million motherfuckers on your trail
 Quick to bust your shit for every single time your words failed
 I'm watchin all the moves you makin fuck the speculatin
 Super-bitch nigga you just be fakin if I'm not mistakin
 Every move you fake you dig your grave a little deeper
 Come around me with that shit I'ma flip it to my brother's keeper
 Listen to this: overstress my emphasis
 I insist to fix and bring the noise as long as I exist
 Now you walk around the streets with all that shit you speak
 And step inside the club just to receive the illest ass beating
 HOO! Take a look around you get no type of sympathy
 Impatiently, I sit and watch you die in your own iniquity
 Hah, now you out dead and stinkin, and your eyes are no longer blinkin
 Time caught up quick, with your little BITCH way of thinkin
 Ahh, watch you diminish, while your niggaz have to put a finish
 On your misleading false image

 Chorus 5X

 Word is bond, bond is life
 You shall be willing to give your life
 Before your words shall fail
 All those who out there frontin, misleading they peoples
 Actin other than they really are
 It will catch up to you player, word is bond
 So that's, specifically, to all those fake motherfuckers
 Living out here on that bullshit
 Trying to act like they know what the fuck's going on