You Can't Hold The Torch - Busta Rhymes, Q-Tip, Chauncey Black

Yeah

It’s funny how the game change, right?

Hehe

Shit feel all different

Y’all niggaz complainin left and right about how the game feel all fucked up Niggaz only been talkin like that since we been sittin out the game

I think the game need us Kamaal, let’s talk to them niggaz

Huh!

So many nights were spent ponderin

Wonderin how we gon’come again

My golden rule is not to focus on the fame game

In retrospect, the game ain’t the same mayne

They heart and soul is divided

They ramshack the music, no control up inside it Now — look at this, it’s all stretched out and nasty

But — lettin money pass me I doubt that, and niggaz from the bottom now

Pumpin hard, wind sleet hail rain or snow

So… you got to get your gate right

No matter what, you got to treat your weight right

On the block if you focused on greed then

Nine out of ten times you be bleedin

The analogy is clear

To all of my peers, I’m a muh’fuckin vet

Don’t mean to disrespect, cause

+ (Chauncey Black) +

«I write rhymes, I write checks»

(It's clear) Bust, aiyyo what happened to the (love)

For the game (love) for the music (I need realness in my life)

Aiyyo these niggaz in the game don’t sound the same

Bust, these niggaz in the game don’t sound the same

Aiyyo what happened?

Aiyyo what happened?

Aiyyo, I ain’t bringin they names up These niggaz sound trash, straight foulin the game up Need to change up (change up) sound so trash

When I see 'em feel like breakin they frame up DuPont registry, talkin 'bout somebody else cars

Muh’fuckers better step up your bars

Instead of frontin in the game like niggaz really are stars

Like we ain’t seein through the bullshit, we know who you are

I’m like a blessing to the game when your shit sound dated

I force niggaz to improve, you should be happy I made it Here to rep the game fully, change my style like the weather

Givin you niggaz new shit to make the game feel better

I’m sayin, I cook in the kitchen and we make the thoughts connect

You forced to humble yourself, give me my big respect

You hurtin the game when your shit sound off y’know

A legend in this shit that’s why I move like a boss y’know

You better be tight, cause you can get tossed fo’sho'

Y’all niggaz know whassup, I come correct with money long cause I

+ (Chauncey Black) +

«I write rhymes, I write checks»

(It's clear) Tip, aiyyo what happened to the (love)

For the game (love) for the music (I need realness in my life)

Aiyyo these niggaz in the game don’t sound the same

Yo, these niggaz in the game don’t sound the same

Aiyyo what happened?

Aiyyo what happened?

Oh my God, they a (uh) come ridin around

Some (uh) old dream and they (uh) can’t get down

They (uh) lookin around outside of themselves

And they sayin things that ain’t really themselves

And they keep fuckin regurgitatin the same script

Same hoes, same blow, same glock clip

Same drug strip, what the fuck is this?

(uh)

C’mon y’all, raise the bar on this body, shit

You sound stagnant, need to progress and grow (uh-huh)

Upgrade your punchlines, progress the flow (uh-huh)

Get your concepts and lyrics together, aiyyo (uh-huh)

Then drop the bomb shit to step up the pressure, y’know?

(huh!)

I’m tired of niggaz complainin how the game changed

You niggaz should step up your game, cause you sound strange

That’s why you ain’t sellin no records, check the SoundScain

In this rap shit I command respect muh’fucker cause I Aiyyo these niggaz in the game don’t sound the same

Bust, these niggaz in the game don’t sound the same

Aiyyo what happened?

Aiyyo what happened?