Busta Rhymes – Busta F***in Problem scritto da admin 18 Gennaio 2016 Come on, yeah Villain, come on Aiight, I got this side right here Take the side right there Gonna do this, Busta bust Come on, aiight Come on Verse 1: Pause, to the wall With the dirty dog, will rap ya’ll If you aint with the bike, crotch Till I break your jaw Been tryin to knock us Tryin to kill or stop us Jack or pop us Busta bust, they fakin The cake is for the takin Why they run in their face? I’m lettin the plan bake Formulate, now look at the plot We got more and more shit that’s hot Show the rock, spot, clock or knock Nigga da hole pot, ready or not? We coming, natchin every number With your hoe in da Benz o, dumba like a motherf**ker (Busta comes in) Verse 2: You can be my lady You can even be my lolli pop sucka The road long coming like the mad trucka Lot of jealous niggas lookin funnier than Chris Tucker God bless, oh yes I stay fresh, full of finesse My congress, show progress Stylist, hit you with tha shit to digest And this rhyme shit we be some of the world’s finest Your highness Leaving corny niggas spineless Attack it with the classic rhyme flow timeless ( Ha Ha ) Chorus: Not a problem my squad can’t fix We can do it in the mix When your niggas talk trash Your forget to bust ass Cause you know we don’t f**k around When your niggas talk shit Lay ya six feet under ground Ground, gro, gro, gro, gro When your niggas talk shit Lay ya six feet under ground Ground, gro, gro, gro, gro Verse 3: This is how we ride Throw your hands from side to side It’s party time And don’t forget to get yours Cause I’m a get mine (Who dat?) The villain Till I’m peelin a million Ridin dirty And bustin like thirty thirty Till when I get in Knowin that the shit is f**ked I’m still here to win Chedda If you aint a pilot than I think you better Hang a little What you got? A sweater man My nigga my life so cut like Kain Real raw Ya’ll don’t know shit about Jamal Or what I’m in it for Cash cards, fly whores and tours Fillin my plate with no mess to no limits The mother once in it Has since froze frigid Ballers and gimicks Dick lickin Chasin chickens I match for the cash with the clickin Grippin sho’ Then I’m dippin Into whippin High trippin Verse 4: Why you niggas hopping and skipping I stick to clippin Yo, accelerate on the gas Move fast, blast! Find a nigga foot in your ass Colorful niggas let’s keep the whole contrast Flipmode is tha squad a news flash, bustin shit up What the f**k? Nigga get up Violate, niggas get their whole shit lit up Break fool, niggas know the rules Rap jewels, champagne bath, no more, we in the pool Nigga caught a motherf**kin strain on the brain Ridin on the train I’m a whip a Benz in tha rain Oversize click, on the rise So realize We be dem niggas that eat up all you funny little small fries The franchise Flipmode damagin all you fall guys Yo I’m tired of niggas they full of true lies No time We got the right surprise Need a new beginning Need to get a baptise You need to get a baptise Word is bond Chorus Just party to tha shit like this come on Just bounce to tha muthaf**kin beat come on Niggas don’t know my brand new song come on Hear me out ya’ll uh Feel my shit Come on bounce