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skit
Busta Rhymes
yo, it all began like, bust it
My nigg* City bout to bounce on a trip
We met some with alot of things they want em to flip
I told my nigg* get the dough and keep the blau on your hip
Travel safe, you know that I'ma hold it down on the strip
Good lookin, word to mother son I give you my wit
But when I get back, I'ma bounce straight to your crib
On the strength, son slid until you to the Greyhound
Wit a burner in the knapsack, headed straight outta town
Now, three days pass I'm still on the strip
Doin hand to hand with twelve collapsible, stashable clips
With little magnets on the side of the clips we planted like a project
When police come we stick the clips in any metal object
Throwin a nigg* on the walls and try to search me down
I laugh knowin that my stash'll never be found
Well anyway, on the third day, son came straight to the strip
Wit a new floss and shiny shoes on the whip
My nigg* hit me with the latest, greatest
He told me get inside the whip so I can know just what the up to date is
He said he fkin wit some Guyanese how ill them is
What kind of dough they get, and how they handle they biz
How they connect with Jamaician who speak American
And how they chains swung a medallion iced out pelicans
And how they stay wit four pounders
And speak American to try to blend in
Like they aint obvious out of towners
Okay, I've never heard of workers gettin five G's pay
For trips that last for only 2-3 day
How these Guyanese be eatin pasta but they love zucchini
Rockin valor tennis suits by Sergio Tecchini
Them type of cats that call you because you can't call 'em
Rockin baseball fitters with wild animal skins on 'em
How they rock silks and tailor made pants
And get a matching bally shoe for the silk to step in the dance
Washrags hangin from every one of our back pockets
>From every fine wine to champagne them 'll straight cop it
And set up shops in them neighborhoods that was residential
Rock laced whips while the workers'll floss the latest rentals
How they fk with arrogant girls who act p*ssy
And love to hustle wit and stash coke up in they p*ssy
After all of that I wanted ones
The way my nigg* was talkin so next trip I went to bounce with son
So now we out of town with Guyanese cats
Up in they gates bubbling packages and layin wit gats
s**t was slow until the main fiend was offed
Just like a thief in the night
And spread the word that we was back with the white
Intermission
"Ayo why don't you tell that crackhead to close the fkin door
and shut the fk up"
"Yeah man and clean the motherfking spot up, smell like..."
"Break the fkin breakdown in the working city... yo go get the plates
and the gym star"
"Yo light that up, lemme hit that, gimme a light, yeah man cut that"
"fk this s**t"
Busta Rhymes
Yeah, see how we blowin pa
The lookout holdin fort like they was watchtowers
Buggin on how we went through, a half a brick every couple of hours
So on and so on, s**t is good and we eatin
First nigg* to short a package will catch the most brutal beatin
The whole town, see we now own it
Carryin on and blemishing all in the hearts of the best moments
We stackin cheddar now and s**t is all clear
And we was growin as workin wit aspiring ideas
We love to floss and the feeling of pushing chrome s**t
But in the grand scheme these 'll love to have they own s**t
Now these was really ready to swell up
We decided to separate from them and make our s**t develop
Off in to the wilderness of the wicked Husid
We set up shops and watched the games begin
So now we ballin like a motherfker, money was sick
Gas on the cheddar and these girls ridin the d*ck
fkin everything from the local McDonald's girls with the biggest ass
To attorney girls that'll beat a charge fast
We used to takin ' custies and leave they set up on tilt
And watch 'em angrily scheme on the s**t that we built
Aint it funny how s**t transpire in fact
Not too long after our ride we took the winner's stash, house was at
Some tried to run a jook with things in they palm
Not a problem so immediately reach for the john
Right away the gun BUST! straight lifted a nigg*
How we moved his organs with kickback, shifted a nigg*
Wild shots fire, everybody scatter like rats
Leavin nothing but gunpowder and a trail of smoke in these gats
Now we got this f*gg*t nigg* blood on our hands
But fk it, determined to fulfill the best of these plans
s**t was hot but we was nowhere near ready to fall
My son said he shot, but he wasn't bleeding at all
Word, I started buggin when my nigg* said he feel cold
Then I looked up on the right side of his shirt and found a little hole
So as we continue to radically blaze the fifth
Flame the iron, not giving a fk, y'all wanna rip?
Well we deaded three out of the four who tried to jook
One nigg* slid and think he got off the hook
Now let me find out one out of them three we bodied
Was one of them Guyanese who buy drinks up for the party
He was the nigg* to flood the table with champagnes
Stupid motherfker tried to front, we had to leak his brain
Suddenly my nigg* fell to the floor
And said his legs feel like them aint got no feelins no more
More the actin up the more the s**t I felt in my gut
The s**t was all over as soon as the director said CUT!
That's a wrap, good actin motherfkers, good actin
That's the s**t I'm talkin about
Y'all ready to watch the playback?
fk around, that s**t'll be a box office smash motherfkers
applause
THE END
