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[Busta Rhymes]Here in 1992 we presentThe fabulous What's The Scenario remixWhereas there are seven MC'sSix which are in physical form and one which is in spiritual essenceAnd he goes by the name of, uh... HOOD![Hood]Check the vibe, walk that ass or get gotEff it (shit) I lick buckshotsHood, madman, I rip up stagesLay down your wages, I'm wild like Larry DavisExtra, extra, pick up a clipI'll tear ass out the frame (HA!) and grab my dick (OHH!)I'm a Rock'Em Sock'Em robot kid, I drop bombsI'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the pettyI baseball bat a bastard, I'm bad newsI'm crazy and clever, cut those of crewsDeath on the phono, my skills are poloYou say "oh no" you bitch ass homoI bag up waste, electrifyin, I'm prime-timeI slaughter a slime, I'm the greatest of all timeSick-ass brother, nasty-ass niggaPump slugs in your face, and dump that ass in the riverTwo tears in a bucket, fuck it, kick the can(SAY WHAT, SAY WHAT?!?!) I'm a baaad, baaad man!!Songtexte[Phife Dawg]Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lipPunchin out hits like Gladys Knight and the PipsThe five-foot assassin has just raided your areaYour booty rhymes are wack and that's the reason I ain't hearin ya(SO!) Roll out the red carpet cause I'm kickin thisVanilla Ice platinum? That shit's ridiculousExcuse my French, but profanity is all I knewAnd to you other sellouts, oh yeah, eff you tooAnd let it be known, I'm not the one to step toYou're better off callin D-Nice "To Your Rescue"Freestyle fanatic, probably the best aroundAs for corny MC's, like Chuck D, I "Shut 'Em Down"The Artical Don of hip-hop and I won't stopThe five-foot assassin has come to wreck 'nuff shopSo do like Michael Jackson and "Remember the Time" (DO YOU REMEMBER?)Put on your dancin shoes or somethin cause you sure can't rhyme[Cut Monitor Milo](BIG UP, BIG UP!) Enter new identityNext to say somethin' cos you pass it to meWhat does it take to check a technique? (MANY STYLES, MANY STYLES!)Hostile heat, brings bursts of energyMilo in De Dance is the new identityOne two mic check, select for the ruffneck sectTen to one that I come CORRECT!In my cyphers on blocks, I bring box to connect with knotsSo I can grow dreadlocksMaintain the rock (DON'T STOP THE ROCK)Maintain the rock (DON'T STOP THE ROCK)Kicking right inna your what's it notI would rock longer but fair is fairSo C. Brown are we in the clear? (Yeahhh!)C. Brown are we in the clear? (Yeahhh!)[Charlie Brown]Makin moves y'all (MOVES Y'ALL!) On and on and on(CHECK IT, CHECK IT OUT!!) To the break of, break of dawn(WHO'S THAT?!) Yes, one of the L.O.N.SAnd a Tribe Called Quest (EAST COAST) to WestRemix mad kick, more than MetallicaTall MC's fall like the Battlestar GallacticStampin, stompin, rompin Compton(PEOPLE ALL OVER THE WORLD) I'm promptin (STYLE!)Pick a style, any style, Strong IsleRepresentation, sensationalization"Scenario" for the radio, 'BLS and KISS, so(HERE WE GO, YO!) YeahForce, Main Source LP on the rise"In Living Color was" seen through original eyesAnd I'm out like shout, Ooh Ahh, Ooh Ahh(OOH AHH, OOH AHH!) There it is baby pah[Dinco D]Lying limp on a limb, slim trim, D I amThere I am (THERE I AM!) don't run from a friendSight we be right, be polite for the miceLike a like (SEE SICK, SEE SYKE)And slip away, and off to the PoconosSpot picked the clothes, Hype swing the pretty poseYamaha (HEY HA MAY!)Let's split the funk, now it all spells (HEY!)Enough enough, Ms. Fitted I'm with itIf I did it, I was blitted, and probably shouldn't have quit itCause yo, my vocal status at Knight is like a GladysBed rest, spread test, and yo I'm like the maddestMale, not female, hail from UniondaleBounce the b-ball cause beats are being yelledIn the hallways always ringing with a HO!This one two times nine on the Scenario[Q-Tip]Check it out, everybody, grabs the micsBlack mens gettin hip, DOIN WHAT THEY LIKE!Eight black brothers in the public eyeIf you listen very close, I will tell you why(HOOD!) Phife, Milo, Dinco and C. BrownShaheed, myself, and Busta Bust DownWill commence to rock (ROCK!) so bring on the flocks (FLOCKS!)In-terrogation for the knockin of the boxThe boom-box ruler, controls the medulaNone come cooler, I win like ShulaSo bust out the moves as you start to pursue herIntensified mind, nine-blunt consumerTip will come booty (WELL IT'S ONLY A RUMOR!)The meaning so deep that it starts brain tumors (TUMORS!)Peace to Hood baby from the midnight croonerSmoke 'em up later, if not then sooner[Busta Rhymes]Hey what we gon DOOO in ninety-TWOEven though we had FUUUN in ninety-ONEWonderful my days, all things comin downRun up on the new sound, leavin cracks in the groundWhat's goin on my man? (GOD DAMN!) and now my brain is hurtinListen up, Busta, straight gon' hit 'em then I get 'emRip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit on 'em, then I will sit on 'emOpen up your mouth if you want the foodTo get rude, Flipmode, cause I'm in the moodAh-heh, ah-heh! Yeah man, that's how it goesBody drippin with blood comin out your noseGive me a Band-Aid, what are you askin for?(MORE!) Only your sacred and pureAdverse, Zig-Zag, check it came to bust a new repRap, Busta Rhymes, or bust this wicked rhymeYeah y'all in '92, I'm packin my roach spray, ANYWAY!Ding-A-Ling - Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New SchoolMad brother when stealthy - RRRAAAOW RRAOW RRAOW!To my dragon, baby, stop whining; I see my influence still shiningMore crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yoThat's the Scenario! Aus Songtexte Mania