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[Busta Rhymes]Here in 1992, we present the fabulous what's the scenario remixWhere as there are 7 mc's.Six which are in physical form, one which is in spiritual essenceAnd he goes by the name of, uh, hood![Hood]Check the rhyme, punk that ass again, god'F' it (shit!) ! I lay buckshotsHood, madman, I rip up stagesLay down in your wages, I'm wild like larry davisExtra, extra, pick up a clip. I'll tear (that) ass out the frame (huh!)And grab my dick (oh!)I'm a rockem sockem robot,kid I drop bombsI'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the pettyI'm baseball bat a bastard, I'm bad newsI'm crazy and clever, cut does your crewsDeath on the phono, my skills are doloYou say 'oh no', you bitch ass homoI bag up waste, electrifying, I'm primetimeI slaughter slime, I'm the greatest of all timeSick ass brother, nasty ass niggaSongtextePump 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 bad, bad man[Phife]Quick is how I flip from the tip of the lipPunching out hits like gladys knight and the pipsThe 5 foot assassin has just raided your areaYour cutty rhymes are wack and that's the reason I ain't hearing ya (so!)Pull out the red carpet cause I'm getting thisVanilla ice platinum? that shit's ridiculousExcuse my fresh, but profanity is all I knewAnd to you other sellouts, oh yeah, 'f' you tooAnd let it be known, I'm not the one to step toYou better off calling d-nice to your rescueFreestyle fanatic, probably the best aroundAs for corny mcs, like chuck d, I 'shut 'em down'The artical don of hip-hop and I won't stopThe 5 foot assassin has come to wreck 'nuff shopSo do like michael jackson and 'remember the time'(do you remember?)Put on your dancing chose or something sho' can't rhyme[Milo](big up big up!) into new eternityNext who said something that complies hot on meWhat does it take to check a technique (many styles, many styles!)Hostile heat brings forth the energyMilo in the dance is the new alternativeOne, two mic check, select for the ruffneck set10 to 1 bet, I come correct!In my cyphers are 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!)Kick it right, then not, e. watt said notI would rock longer but fair is fairSo c. brown are we in the clear? (yeah!)C. brown are we in the clear? (yeah!)[Charlie Brown]Making moves y'all (moves y'all!)On and on and on (checka, check it out!)To the breaka, breakadawn (who's that?)Just, one of the lons and a tribe called quest(east coast!) to westRemixed mad kick more than metallicaTall emcees for like the battlestar gallacticaStampin, stompin, rompin compton(people all over the world!) I'm prompting (style!)Pick a style, any style, strong isleRepresentation, sensationalizationScenario for the radio, bls and kiss, so(here we go, yo!) yeahForce, main source lp on the riseIn living color was seen through original eyesAnd I'm out like shout, There it is baby par[Dinco]Vine, limb on a limb, slim trimP I m, there I am (there I am!)Don't run from a blimSight be be right, be polite for my mice like a mikeSee sick, see sykeAnd slip away and off to the poconosSpot pick the flows, mike swing a pretty poseYamaha (yay-ha-may!)Let's split the funk, now it all sounds (hey!)And nuff enough, misfitted I'm with itIf I did it, I was blitted and probably shouldn't have quitCuz yo, my corporate status at knight like gladysBed rest spread tests and yo, I'm like the maddestMale, not female, hail from uniondaleBounce the b-ball cuz beats are bein yelledIn the hallway is always draggin with a ho!This is my 2 times 9 on the scenario[Q-tip]Check it out everybody, rhymes and micsBlack men's getting loot, doing what they like!Eight black brothers in the public eyeIf you listen very close, I will tell you whyHood!, phife, milo, dinco and c. brownShaheed, myself and Busta bust brownWill commence to rock (rock!), so bring on the flocks (flocks!)Interrogation for the knocking out 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, non 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 him up later, if not, then sooner[Busta Rhymes]Hey what we goin' do! in '92, even though we had fun! in '91Quick to fill my day, earn beans coming downFrom the from the new sound, leaving cracks in the groundWhat's goin' on my man (god damn!) and now my brain is hurtingIt's enough, Busta, rhythm will 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 foodSo get loot, flipmode, cause I'm in the mood, Yeah man, that's how it goesBody dripping of top blood coming out your noseGive me your band-aid, what are you asking for? (more!)All in your secret and pureAdverse, they said, check it and I bust a new rapRhymes, Busta Rhymes, and bust this wicked rhymesYeah y'all in '92, I'm packing my roach spray (anyway!)Tickle it, tribe called quest, leaders of the new schoolMad brothers would still think, rhow, rhow, rhow!To my dragon, baby, stop whiningI see my influence still shiningMore crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yoThat's the scenario!
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"Scenario [Remix]" as written by Kamaal Ibn John Fareed, Malik Izaak Taylor, Ali Shaheed Jones-muhammad, Bryan Higgins, James Jackson, Trevor Smith, Leroy Bonner, Marshall E. Jones, Norman B. Napier, Ralph Middlebrooks, Walter Morrison, Andrew Noland, Marv Pierce
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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