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lirik lagu what up – busta rhymes

“it’s new!”
yeah! yeah, busta bust down, flipmode now
i know what you all feel like doin’
go ‘head and crash your whip in the f-ckin’ wall
it’s cool, n-gg-z, we gets busy

for sure, spit rogue, get more ’bout to kick in the door
d-ck sore, split wh-r-s ’til they sh-t on the floor
clique more sick from when you use to see us before
sh-t, kill a n-gg-, quick, n-gg-z know my rapport
keep workers on the strip that be ready for war
brick i flip a little quicker if they sh-t in the store
rip, maybe ’til they drop, and they sh-t in they drawers
sh-t crazy when i pop, and i’m grippin’ the four

thick b-tches in the spot, watch them strip for the sport
spit vicious for the block, yeah we swingin’ a torch
stick n-gg-z for they sh-t, thank them for they support
quick n-gg-, 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 sh-t to bang from l.a. to the streets of new york

all my people, get drunk, get high
get money, get rich, get fly
get stupid, get busy, get live
jump all in your whip, turn the key and drive
make a million yeah we gonna make about five
we speak the truth and we ain’t talkin’ no jive
i’m speakin’ to the streets and everybody’s with it
once again you know we only come to get it

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 full of n-gg-z with the strap and the whip
get the gat out of the stash, put it back on my hip
gat b-tt 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 b-tch
pay triple for the name on the back of the st-tch
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, sh-t is only a myth

grab ahold of the m-sses, i was born with a gift
n-gg-z be runnin’ they trap, throw ’em over the cliff
thinkin’ and drinkin’ the guinness, busy holdin’ the spliff
flippin’ and sh-ttin’ on n-gg-z ’til we old and we stiff
i don’t even drive whips, throw the sh-t 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 sh-t to bang the midwest and the rest of the south

- busta rhymes

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