[Spliff Star (Busta Rhymes)]
  ("What?") "Check it, what, ha. ("Noooooo!") Ha! Ha-ha, ha! ("Hey!") Yeah."
  ("I don't care! What?! What?! Uhhh...")
  
  It's the musical felon, the black John Lennon
  who keep the gat between the brief and the denim
  The way the world is headed, I can see how it's endin'
  but I'm gonna get this paper from now to armageddon
  My mental's too strict, my squad is too thick,
  I fucked up and slipped but I quickly caught a grip
  Since my man put me on, ("Eh-heh.") I took another route
  I'm wreckin' shows you know from here to over South
  Them mothafuckas know exactly talkin' about
  Spliff Star, see me on MTV
  Fuck that! I'm comin' to gain on Soul Train
  Now I'm gettin' paid like that nigga Damon Wayans
  Fuck that! No more stress on the brain!
  Fuck that! No more sellin' cocaine!
  I'm out there, I'm out there on the radio
  Catch me in the video doin' my thing
  Still smokin' crucial bang
  Just came off my P-O ("Yo!")
  I'm in my basement writin' 'nough flow
  That's right, my fuckin' brain's open
  Got you jealous niggas on the sides slopin'
  Smell the weed I'm totin'
  It's stink like skunks, I'm beatin' down you punks
  Now shut the fuck up! ("'K up! 'K up! 'K up...")
  
  [Busta Rhymes]
  "Ayyo, ayyo, ayyo, what the-what the fuck is goin' on in my shit?! Ayyo,
  Spliff Star! How the fuck you up in my shit, got your fuckin' songs on my LP,
  nigga? Nigga, we know your shit comin' out in '98, mothafucka! Have patience!
  Mawfucka tryin' to bogart space on my LP..."