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(Mr. Q)
Yeah, yeah. Check it out. Yo, yo, yo
(CHORUS: Mr. Q)
It's the connection
It's the connection
It's the connection
It's the connect son
It's the connection
It's the connection
It's the connection
It's the connect son
Mr. Q and Mikey Styles, *** is live
Yeah, yeah, yo
(Verse 1: Mr. Q)
So watch the story of a young thug
*** is busting
*** is trying to get they hand on our cheddar, but whatever
Part of my mission, is to reach my destinatino
Son, you with me? Aight, then let's make it happen
Yo with this rap ***, I'm in it
I worry y'all *** stick it and bring it
A lot of *** talk about the next ***
Is kyou real or are you faking jacks?
Y'all *** ain't live
The whole way *** is standing in the pair of fly ties
*** bringing the drama
My *** Deeper than the Mobb
Bring the *** like you want it
You can't bust me
I'm like the holy son, the son of Jehovah
??? *** puch your Range Rover
Put y'all to sleep
You try to creep after seeing *** freed you
I'll leave you with a death wish
Your peoples miss you thinking you're alive
My *** kick your *** for a ride
Now you gone, dead
These *** took your head
Instead of *** with us you better get with us
And be the last *** thinking that you got through
And defeat you, you feel offended, then money bring it
I take no shorts, I leave you *** on a crusty cross
While your priest bother calling
Has a sly trade of where my crew is from
The heart of Bushwick
I bring it back to Allah
'Cause *** make you cry if you front on some ***
But still you fronted
Now you bump heads with real ***
You don't want it
But yo, you got disrespected
Hit you on the spot, must respect it
You got rejected
That's what you get when you *** with rap
With the real ***
*** you get his cap peeled, *** is real son
Yeah, yeah, yo, yo
Thug bust a slug
*** don't give a *** son
If ya want it, then you bring it
Yo, yo
Thug bust a slug
*** don't give a *** son
If ya want it, then you bring it
(Verse 2: Mikey Styles)
Welcome, on the East side of things
We 'bout the dookie links, diamond rings and things
Head come around, try throw foul swings
Back stabbing enemies, claim defending
Never shake hands with a crooked wanna be
Only real *** feel the true energy
So feel the vibe ***
Hit ya kind of red
Represent yours, time to make this *** shine
'Cause rappers that be looking from the side
Then they go and party to heads that's always live
Ain't fakers whose be down with us, because we bust
Criticize the rappers have had enough of what we say
Mad love to *** who live what we say
East, West, North, South *** all day
We gonna bust your ear drums
Call you dun, son
You know how we do
(CHORUS)
(Mr. Q) Mr. Q and Mikey Styles, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yo, yo young thug busting slugs
*** don't give a ***
If ya want it son then bring it
Young thug busting slugs
*** don't give a ***
If ya want it, then you bring it
(Mikey Styles)
Yo, yo
Let's take it to the streetside, the real side
So don't move an inch, don't even flinch
Just grab you bag of money
Now it's time you represent
Ain't nothing changed, the crew is stilll snatching ends
I'm chilling, sipping Shon Dom's(sp?)
You know how we do
I get my buzz on
(Mr. Q)
It's the connect son
It's the connect son
It's the connect son
It's the connects
It's the connection
It's the connect son
It's the connect son
It's the connect son
*** know better not to run this *** Q
My ***, is lyrical when I drop it on
This *** is ludicris, I plant them in tears
So a lot of *** out there don't like my style dun
*** a man, I'm going underground
So listen to my sound
Word is bond son, *** is dumb
Pass me the gun, *** ya beef and ya speech
Come clean in every scene
Try to make it on my own
Dukes throw up, they say she try to lose me
I got crazy drama
Can count on my mama
I'm going insane, got *** hoes in my brain
Trying to maintain, buy yo I still a *** mess
I'm stressed, now I'm smoking cease
Reality got my mind, you know what I'm saying
It's the connection
