Busta Rhymes
Busta Rhymes - Baggage Handlers lyrics
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[Intro: sample from Scarface] You got to be kiddin', five hundred? Who you think we are, baggage handlers? The goin' rate on a boat, is a thousand a night, man You know that (first you got to work your way up to 500, cedigo) Ok, what I did for you guys in Freedomtown, what was that? [Raekwon] Return of the kitchen kid, with the axe All I know is real detail, coke, lasagna and them E pills Million dollar merchandise, we on, get ya groove back A hundred yukons, we all moving crack All my soldiers got big rank, pa, Sicily money Y'all had a bitch that got pregnant in Iraq What's the movement? Superman money in the Ooh building A few dudes who make a lotta rules sayin' 'you get it' Right, wavy hair, all my niggaz is polic' You stay off the roof, or jakes see the crib No snitchin', this Amityville detention Might fuck around, get caught, or shot down, play position Yeah, here they come, sizin' them up, you know my status This is raw way, lookin' in his eyes, and he butt Yo, what's happenin'? I heard you got the streets back, captain Yup, all niggaz is dead, unless they team clappin' something He felt the generals plans, recognize, we going all out I might throw three in his man Had the slick look, looking all Cubaned up Don't get it twisted, nigga we'll swiss swish you up, what? [Chorus: Raekwon (Busta Rhymes)] From all day to morn', noon, night Recognize we gotta re-up (Yo, it's Cuban Link 2, motherfucker) You all listen, pay attention Word to the team, we gonna key up (Yo, it's Cuban Link 2, motherfucker) Get ya birds off, playground Yo, stay out my business, you gon' see us (Yo, it's Cuban Link 2, motherfucker) For all them real Cash Rule Everything Around Me Niggaz get y'all stee up (Yo, it's Cuban Link 2, motherfucker) [Raekwon] The kid that endorse Maxmaris, shorty show support Take your sweatpants off, fix your mascara Four hundred nineteen ounces, out in Long Island Twelve strong bitches that's real, who not scared of housing Yes, throw on them raccoon, chinchilla feathers Let it drag on my boots, the jean burned leather Jog through the back of the building, drop the L Got the scope on your nosey ass mother, fuckin' up sales Forty karat locked in, bowtie, chillin' at the Democrat party Yo, Chef, your coat, got it poppin' Coming soon, Purple Tape, circle up the city let 'em know I'm back Four hundred bricks, and yup, the kids stance Sponsored by my cousin in Stan', maintainin' Got the call from Tony Young Montana, my son campaignin' Yup, I'm not no fuckin' bellboy, I war anything out there The ring is mine, you can tell Roy That's when I was hit with the call, your whole motto is get tour Drug rap owner, you will rip all Live like the pope, and get a big hall Flipped them a claren, the front, like the Jag back like the store [Chorus] [Outro: Raekwon (Scarface sample)] Yea, we back in the motherfuckin' staircase, nigga You know that kid is coming, Cuban Linx, nigga Louis Rich, the signature, bitch (Every dog has his day, huh, Mel? You wanna job Ernie? Ok, then, you call me tomorrow)