Lyrics:
Busta Rhymes Against All Odds

You know the issue I'm official When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you Chorus FLIPMODE SQUAD Here to drop bombs AGAINST ALL ODDS Still

know the issue I'm official When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you Chorus FLIPMODE SQUAD Here to drop bombs AGAINST ALL ODDS Still

You know the issue I’m official When you die none of your niggas is really gon miss you Chorus: Flipmode squad Here to drop bombs Against all odds Still

get it clear, Brooklyn, Vietnam Yo yo, live from the seven-one-eight y'all Lay down nigga It's the ill Na Na Cut ya dick off put it in ya mouth y'all

me feelin like I got you niggas crazy (Uh huh) Against all odds up lettin my thug mothafuckas know This'll be the realist shit I ever wrote Against all odds

lasso, shit is a hassle There's no days, for broke days, we sell it, smoke pays While all the old folks pray, to Jesus' soakin' they sins in trays Of holy water, odds against

.Y.C., is all I see, O.D.B., n****, R.I.P. (Konichiwa bi*ches) This Killa Beez on ya M.I.C., you want it all Well, then y'all like me (Konichiwa bi*ches

made me Lovin' how I got you niggas crazy Against all odds, hopin' my thug motherfuckers know This be the realest shit I ever wrote Against all odds

better drop your flag an' withdraw My cavalry charge accompanied by a blizzard of wicked metaphors An' smash y?all Attach y?all to the back of my horse An' drag y?all