"The Onslaught" as written by Ewart Dewgarde, Kenyatta Blake, George Clinton/ Bernie Worrell, Bootsy Collins and Smith....
featuring Busta Rhymes



[Busta R.] Flipmode, Boot Camp, alliance official

[Buckshot] Shit hit your chest like sess

[Busta R.] Each and every time

(Whattup nigga?) Yeah whattup nigga?

(Y'all niggaz chillin?) The Sun don't chill nigga

[Buckshot] Hate y'all little niggaz

Listen to this right here motherfucker what?

[Buckshot] Knahmsayin, shit be kinda close

Hittin you up with some real shit, feel this nigga



[Buckshot]

Buck spread love like the Pope, but I never spread false hope

I bring the bomb squad close, rock you with a dose

of TNT, niggaz ain't believe in me?

I'm comin back for all them niggaz who be thievin me

I'm incredible, also edible

Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview

want to be worldwide, but you can't fuck with I

You try, you die; don't deny the fact that you got your back

blown by binoculars, the way I'm rockin ya

and drop-toppin ya, dough low go for dolo in Cali

All my Outlawz form a rally and we _Bomb First_ nigga

Pull the trigga, see what happen if you hestitate

and cut yoour blood supply short

The bloodsport, the motherfuckin onslaught



[CHORUS] -> Busta Rhymes

Yo, now in the onslaught, y'all niggaz got caught

Now we can run a full court all in a bloodsport

And while we hold the fort, cut ya like live shorts

Feel the pressure burn a nigga like a Newport!



[Buckshot]

Comin for you

I used to sit back, and let a lot of shit

get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of shit

A lot of fake niggaz, frontin in the game with

a little record deal but still drive the same whip

Damn shame ain't it? The vision that they show you

in they videos'll make you think them niggaz moved out the ghetto

Oh? Don't get me wrong, I ain't tryin to stay

But shit, at the same time I ain't tryin to run away

A lot of family is left behind

A lot of my niggaz is left to grind, some still do crime

Some do time, but, no matter what

None of my niggaz keep an empty shell inside the nine

Cockback, fuckin up the Evil Dee track and make the mind react

Smoke a phat one listen to Buck and get black

As a matter of fact

Even if you don't smoke you can feel the contact



[CHORUS]



[Buckshot]

Comin for you

Jump through the window to your rescue I guess you

heard the rest do, all that rap shit but in fact it

sounded kinda good until I let you hear this phat shit

You lack shit, nigga track this

Record this, oh my lord this is the warnin sign for y'all

B.D. wann ball; is you feelin me? Let me know somethin

And if you see me lookin sober, let me smoke somethin

Pump it up like D, film me like Spike Lee

Bodycount like Ice-T, do it nicely

Nice to see, that nigga Buck..shot .. rappin

Fuck it, I'ma make it happen

All my niggaz stick to gunclappin, don't change

From my street niggaz up to my nigga Starang

Bang bang nigga, can you hang, nigga?

It's your fault you got caught in the rain, nigga



[CHORUS]


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"The Onslaught" as written by Bootsy Collins Bernie Worrell

Lyrics © Royalty Network Music Publishing Ltd.

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The Onslaught song meanings
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