conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Outro with the following description: One wouldn’t expect for a posse cut to end the album, or feature none of the Young Money mainstays like Nicki Minaj or Tyga. However, Weezy bucks tradition once again and assembles an international roster to close out his album, ending with an especially vicious verse from Busta Rhymes. He’s certainly reclaimed his dungeon dragon status from Nicki. Though this track has no Weezy at all… Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Produced by Willy Will]
  [Verse 1: Bun B]
  Yeah, when I step in the spot, motherfuckers say "who that?"
  Big Bun Beeda but you already knew that
  Live from the state where they chop it and screw that
  You hatin' on the trill OG, where they do that? (for real!)
  Motherfuckers need to get off the dick, man
  Fall the fuck back like a bike with no kickstand
  Get out my mix, man, just gon' get you stuck
  Deeper in the quicksand with no easy fix, man (damn)
  No tricks, man, those is for kids
  Kush in my cigar and hoes in the crib
  Drank and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge
  You fuckin' with P.A. so you know what it is
  I'm sittin on the fours that clack
  Comin' down candy in the golden 'Lac
  We gettin' to the money like it's Goldman Sachs
  Said we do it for the Pimp so no holding back, let's go!
  [Verse 2: Nas]
  Look who crept in, crept-crept in
  Look-look who crept in, look-look wh
  o
  L-l-l-look who crept in with automatic weapons
  Reppin' QB 'til the death of him
  That nigga that inspired lyrical tyrants
  Like Kanye West and Em
  Track record, goes back to the Essence
  Smack adolescents who ask who the best is
  I'm nasty like gas
   from a fat man's intestines
  I pass it, you gaspin' for breath and you die fast
  Gut 'em like a gastric bypass
  But ya Nas advocates actors seem
  To get typecast in the same role
  Since 16 I ain't grow a day old yet my brain grow
  Cocaine white Range Rov'
  Tats on my body like an art exhibit
  I did real good for a project nigga
  Was once a Bacardi sipper
  Now it's Chandon, fat blunts in the car with strippers
  Guns in compartments hidden
  I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga
  Blessings, bowed down, respected
  Chowed down, now my food's digested
  Pow pow, with my shooters are Techs
  That'll bust louder than the noise that I just spit
  Let's get one thing straight
  That my crown ain't for testing, testing
  Chop heads off like King Henry the Eighth
  Guillotine to your neck, bitch
  I'm a king in this thing, don't be dumb
  Been in this shit since '91
  Niggas can't fuck with the style I use
  Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum
  Calm now, was a wildin' dude
  Studied Taoism and made power moves
  Watched 
  Wild Planet
  , seen lions devour food
  You can say that's how I move
  A monster nigga, and I don't really like doing songs with niggas
  But yo, my nigga Wayne
  Let them niggas hate, 'cause like my nigga Drake say
  "We ain't got time to respond to niggas" [Verse 3: Shyne]
  I'm a villain, I'm a villain, all that happens in the street
  Poverty and desperation made me everything I be
  I'm a shotta when I pop up with them poppers, burn ya block up
  Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin' over Gotham
  Word to Poppa, Blood, Bl-Blood gang, five
  It’s that Blood gang five but green is the bottom line
  I run this town, I ain't gon' lie, they run they mouth, they ain't gon' fire
  They actin' like they ain’t gon' die, until I let them 'llamas fly
  Flatbush to Bed Do-or-Die, from Watts to Larry Hoover Chi
  Poverty and heroine, it’s no place for a juvenile
  Put greed in our heart, it’s the green that we want
  Cash Money is the company, and Weezy the boss!
  [Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]
  They say I’m underrated, but un-compete-with-able
  Hm... Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable
  Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable!
  And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible!
  They ask is what I do ever gonna stop, this shit will never end
  That’s when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth
  Got 'em sayin' "There he goes again!"
  See now, they nominated a nigga to come and flatten everything
  Now let me dominate it, nigga run
  And they be knowin' that I be blackin' on everything
  And make it complicated like a nigga constipated with a gun
  I gotta make it what they want and wake ‘em when I come
  And shake 'em and bake 'em and take 'em to another place
  Ain’t no fakin’, ain’t no kind of mistaking
  How I be breakin' up everything
  And be creating a s-s-s-situation when I'm done (Damn!)
  You see I spit National Treasure, discography rich
  And I done killed more cats than curiosity, 
  snitch!
  Most of you niggas sorry and owe apologies, quick
  What the fuck you niggas still hangin' around here for, you apostrophe bitch?
  Okay, now enough of that, see now I’m out the door
  Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole 'nother classic with "Tha Carter IV"