Busta Rhymes
Busta Rhymes - Holla songtekst
Je score:
Yeah, yea This shit sound like.. one two o'clock in the mornin with the full moon out Niggaz in they trucks creepin With a fresh box of ecstasy pills for these bitches Yeah, team select, please collect, G's connect Thieves nigga direct the trees to the SmokeFest Wanna take a toke? YES! The newest zone I'm in I'm like Smithsonian nigga, fuck it call me Napoleon Wave the torch, cut the head off the Leviathan The terminology I'm rhymin in cause a frenzy up in Ireland Hit ya, I'm gon get ya And drop the bomb scripture at your barmitzvah Yo, map shit out, blast through the speakers With a wifebeater on, Bushe below, a new pair of sneakers Street niggaz hang on the sidewalk, that's where I learned my fly talk Pimp-strut, and how to skywalk Moderatin how we establish the whole conglomerate The way we honor it, you'll never conquer it See how we wreck, has a global effect, on even Polish people Young and restless down to the old and feeble Peep them, Czechoslovakian to Yugoslavian niggaz Be all into my bounce so don't be botherin niggaz So NOW you should feel the whole cathedralish bounce Put one in your stomach leave you in a fetalish crouch, nigga My vernacular is spectacular Strategic plans'll have you lookin wacker than a postal office massacre Is that so? Make moves just like a fatso Bounce in a minivan Astro after my gat BLOW! Aiyyo, get up, get up, get dough (get dough nigga) Roll up, light up, and smoke that 'dro (smoke 'dro now) Bitch shake yo' hips and bounce real slow Niggaz rep yo' hood, I'm with that -- All my nig-gaz (all my niggaz) if you with me (if you with me) Yeah I see you (yeah) HOL-LA (Throw yo' guns in the motherfuckin air, c'mon!) All my bitch-es, if you're with me (yeah all my bitches where you at now) Yeah I see you (you know I see y'all) HOL-LA Yeah, my whole entire mindstate deeper than astronomy and mathematics like Galileo Smash you niggaz like mashed potato Back when niggaz used to rock Ballys and Clarks I used to watch, little niggaz shouldn't hustle nickel crack in the park Barrels spray the brighter flame in the dark Blood spill stain on the street, that's how niggaz be leavin they mark Fuckin with diplomats who love Bailey's Monopolize and quickly get other money fuckin with Israelis So solid how we be symbolic to a handful of niggaz that be all schemin on the same wallet Them type niggaz that be conspirin and kidnappin Shit happens! Gun clap for you in a GIFT wrappin You should follow how the style switch up Like a group of religious niggaz schemin to kill they arch-bishop You big pussy nigga actin all hard Call me atheist, because I don't believe in you God It's like a grand feast celebratin the bounce of the century I tote the recipe quick for any type of discrepancy Busta Rhymes the great renaissance artist and architect Like how a Filippo Brunelleschi portrait is so hard to get We got the obscure shit for the street Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat Holla at me now, c'mon! Yeah.. Busta Rhymes, cookin up a little brown stew chicken Dr. Dre niggaz, yea