Wrestling
Wrestling - Busta Rhymes- Fire It Up songtekst
Je score:
Verse 1: We grind ya'll Bounce back, open your mind ya'll Grind your whole ass till you twist your waistline Ya'll know the time Hey yo feel the base line Stack the overdrive Bounce, baby feel the incline So geniune, everytime, Busta redefine The wicked knew the dime Makin ya'll press rewind Hope you feelin fine Watch me combine and intertwine The bounce rock skates make you cross the foul line Shine a nickel nine On all kinds of little swine Stick the worst of porcupine If you tryin to take mine Yo, pick up my nigga Splif In the blue 5S's Sportin out tan, interior blue head restses Move, baby no time for second guesses Been articulate the right bounce as the flow finesses Yo we gettin papers spreadin love and happiness's Shit blazin so hot DJ's scratch the test presses Like make it mo hot baby *chorus comes in* Chorus: Turn it up, I wanna hear it real loud, just Turn it up, so we can party in the loft, baby Turn it up, we need to tear the roof off, so just Turn it up, I need to make it mo hot, baby (repeat first three lines, finish with 'Turn it up') Verse 2: Yo, word is bond Baby let's get it on I never say it wrong Yo baby girl take off your thong Let me put it in your spirit like the holy Kyron Got the mega song Sweet like honey chicken dijon Movin along Yo, honey body look real strong Watch your ass swing Hangin like a medallion Exercise baby let me see you spread on the floor What you askin for? Relax, I'm bout to give you some more Where the liquor store? Hit you with some more metaphor The raw, hot to def shit you never seen it before Hit the deck, on your mark, get set, we bout to jet Spark it like ingelet, chickens breakin their neck Yo we play to win Such a shame, shit is a sin So hot baby body heat bubble your skin Everytime I flow speak I caress the whole beach Just like the body guard Les straight walkin the street We get down Chorus Verse Three: Yo, come on baby just feel my heat wave A lot of hot ones ready for niggas that act brave Chill son, you better off if you behave Flip money while broke niggas tryin to save Lay low, I say so, my pesos Import my cheese stack by the castros Make clothes Or stay fly a chase hoes Equatorians soft lips and straight nose Makin dough When we rippin the paid show Get the money and dip, we in the Range Rove Now we makin grands We name brand We make plans, change plans Then we expand across land Do it properly Yo, I said open sesame The recipe, be the hot shit, it's got to be Yo, landscape We arrange a whole shape Rock the fly tape Then I continue to skyscrape Like blah!!!!!!!!!!! So hot Chorus