lirik lagu busy – nasaan
[intro]
(several overlapping phone calls)
ayy, nasaan, it’s your boy
nasaan, it’s your grandfather, […] make your blood well
hey, there, grandson, just callin’ to say, “i love you,” and make sure you good […] let me know you good, love you, man
[…] wanna hit the studio, lock in with you
i f*ck with your music, bruh, that kiss of karma […] go hard
man, that godd*mn […]
talk to my mans, talk to my clique
talk to my waist, down my hip
talk my head, talk to my b*tch
that’s why i had blood on top your lip
pardon my dawg, pardon my clique
pardon my mood, got me p*ssed
we no smooth, you no sl!ck
we no smooth
(nasaan, why the f*ck you not answering my phone calls?)
[chorus: nasaan]
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
[verse 1: nasaan]
sig is all black, skin is all black, business all black (wait)
sig is all black, skin is all black, business all black
i don’t call back, got it complex, shout on contact
say he shift keys, that is all*cap (wait)
your problem with me (ya ho), i’m winnin’, wе can’t resolve that (hey)
wе comin’ in deep (ya ho), i’m aimin’ at every ball cap
n*gga, fall back, disrespect my pimpin’ and get your jaw slapped
that’s some contact
i’m from where the hitters, i got the ball back
broke and on my d*ck, bro, what you call that?
me in the middle, findin’ my demon, just me in the mental
d*gg*n’ these b*tches, put me in the kennel
one sight and we wreckin’ the rental
my gun out the window, i’m tweakin’
[chorus: nasaan]
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
(my gun out the window, i’m tweakin’)
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
ayy, this line busy, ayy, this line busy, ayy
[verse 2: swavay]
uh, skin is all black, glizzy all black
ain’t no call back, n*gga do everything he do for broads, yeah
what you call that? (p*ssy ass n*gga, for real)
pardon my n*ggas, they don’t have training
we can’t do nothin’, b*tch, i’m too famous
i can’t let up on you n*ggas, too gracious
i can’t do nothin’ without my payment (crazyman)
i just bought my b*tch the telfar bag, she gon’ pass out (yeah)
ratchet, i want every ho on ‘gram with her ass out
she love (shoo), she love when a n*gga pull that cash out
then she find out ’bout my other (shoo) she gon spazz out
so pardon my b*tch, pardon my whip
pardon my chips, pardon my clique, i’m from the bricks
this ain’t the whip, but i grew up with sticks, i get you snipped
this ain’t no clubhouse, but if you say one lil’ wrong thing to me, then i get you kicked
i got the hits, i put you right in the mentions to get you right out of that sh*t (yeah)
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