Tytuł: What Up

• Wykonawca: Busta Rhymes
• Wyświetleń: 287

[scratched: "It's the new!!"]
  
  Yeah! Yeah, Busta Bust down, Flipmode now
  I know what y'all feel like doin
  Go 'head and crash your whip in the fuckin wall
  It's cool, niggaz.. we gets busy
  
  [Verse One]
  Fo' sho', spit rogue, get mo' bout to kick in the door
  Dick sore, split whores 'til they shit on the floor
  Clique more sick from when you use to see us before
  Shit, kill a nigga quick, niggaz know my rapport
  Keep workers on the strip that be ready for war
  Brick I flip a little quicker if they shit in the store
  Rip, maybe 'til they drop, and they shit in they drawers
  Shit crazy when I pop, and I'm grippin the four
  Thick bitches in the spot, watch 'em strip for the sport
  Spit vicious for the block, yeah we swingin a torch
  Stick niggaz for they shit, thank 'em for they support
  Quick nigga, better quit snitchin down at the court
  Check track a little slick and try to go on my Forbes
  Cause we stackin like we rich, and we holdin the fort
  This time, we had to bring it, guess what we brought
  The hottest shit to bang from L.A. to the streets of New York
  
  [Chorus]
  All my people, get drunk, get high - WHATTUP?
  Get money, get rich, get fly - WHATTUP?
  Get stupid, get busy, get live - WHATTUP?
  Jump all in your whip, turn the key and drive - WHATTUP?
  Make a mill' yeah we gon' make about five - WHATTUP?
  We speak the truth and we ain't talkin no jive - WHATTUP?
  I'm speakin to the streets and everybody's widdit - WHATTUP?
  Once again you know we only come to get it - WHATTUP?
  
  [Verse Two]
  AOWWWWWWW!! Ha, I stay wicked now I'm back on the strip
  Like I went on a vacation and I'm back from my trip
  Nuff radio rotation like I'm sailin a ship
  Or when the team circle the block, busy trailin my clique
  Truck packed fulla niggaz with the strap and the whip
  Get the gat out of the stash, put it back on my hip
  Gat butt you in the face, split and fatten your lip
  Blood hit the floor louder than the clap when it drip
  I credit your name with bullets, read the back of the script
  My victim's initials engraved on the back of the clip
  Chicks love the way we roll, how the movement is thick
  So official like my name's on the back of your bitch
  Pay triple for the name on the back of the stitch
  Name like the whole city now I'm changin the pitch
  Kick back kinda crazy when I'm holdin the fifth
  Think you nicer than the God, shit is only a myth
  Grab ahold of the masses, I was born with a gift
  Niggaz be runnin they trap, throw 'em over the cliff
  Thinkin and drinkin the Guinness, busy holdin the spliff
  Flippin and shittin on niggaz 'til we old and we stiff
  I don't even drive whips, throw the shit on the lift
  12 hours, one worker do the whole of the shift
  I do the thing to make you open your mouth
  And give you shit to bang the Midwest and the rest of the South
  
  [Chorus]