You Won't Tell, I Won't Tell

Busta Rhymes and Greg Nice we never fa-il

(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)

My shit stay fresh never ever ever stale

(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)

Foot shock to your ass just like the third ra-il

(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)

Snitches get stitches when they go to ja-il

(You won't te-ll, I won't te-ll)

Sometimes I feel like Bobby's World

Rocked the mic, before jheri curl

Single, mingle, no main girl

On the low, like Secret Squirrel

Uhh! It's time to Patti Duke

So shake whatcha mamma gave ya like Luke

It's Greg N-I always down to juice

Too much Hennesey make ya puke

Now I bust on indo dreams

Uhh, I don't be f**kin with keys

Rock the shell-top, or pin-striped Lee's

I could write a song make a hundred G's

You went back to high school, nuthin but a tease

Know I got stones, call me Mr. Please Please

Walkin down the street wit yo'

box in your hand... hot damn!

I never drove a Lex dog, never drove a Land

or a Testarossa, rather puff L's

and I sip on mimosa, bedroom wall

homegirl have my poster, I'm not surprised

That's the way it's supposed to, makes ya hot

Much hotter than a toaster, style elevates

like a roller coaster

Yo, the greatest unsolved mystery

of how I rotate your chicken golden rotissiere

Freak the cheesecake flow from here to Sicily

You really need to get offa my, hickory-dickory

The main attraction, even freaks the close caption

Snap break a piece off, a little small fraction

I still fulfill your dissatisfaction

I'm in the process, of completing a transaction

Huh, Carnegie Hall, like a opera singer nigga

Still doin the yes y'all, uhh!

Today we bust guns in the future we bustin lasers

Out of range in case you tried to reach me through my pager

I'm bout to blaze ya, with the flows that will amaze ya

Hot to death nigga, call me Smokin Joe Frazier

Seal up the box and present the closed casket

Busta Rhymes got the boombastic fruit basket

Bend your ass back, stretch you like elastic

More drastic when I be feelin fantastic, uhh!

Caught the chills stack the large bills barbeque on the grill

Me and my niggaz grant wills

Niggaz talkin shit but they ain't got no skills

Lookin like they full of shit your niggaz named you no frills

Don't let me catch you takin for granted

When my lyrical cause will leave y'all niggaz stranded

Distributed by, Warner Elektra and Atlantic

Niggaz thought they could fly, but really crash landed

Hah, when I'm in the place I'm up in your house

All y'all corny motherf**kers need to shut your mouth!

If you won't te-ll, I won't te-ll

If you won't te-ll (I said that I won't te-ll)

I say if you won't te-ll...