What Up - Busta Rhymes (布斯塔·瑞恩)

Yeah yeah busta bust down flipmode now

I know what yall feel like doin

Go head and crash your whip in the f**kin wall

Its cool niggaz we gets busy

Fo sho spit rogue get mo bout to kick in the door

Dick sore split whores til they sh*t on the floor

Clique more sick from when you use to see us before

Sh*t kill a ni**a quick niggaz 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 Im grippin the four

Thick b**ches in the spot watch em strip for the sport

Spit vicious for the block yeah we swingin a torch

Stick niggaz for they sh*t thank em for they support

Quick ni**a 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 - whattup

Get money get rich get fly - whattup

Get stupid get busy get live - whattup

Jump all in your whip turn the key and drive - whattup

Make a mill yeah we gon make about five - whattup

We speak the truth and we aint talkin no jive - whattup

Im speakin to the streets and everybodys widdit - whattup

Once again you know we only come to get it - whattup

Like I went on a vacation and Im back from my trip

Nuff radio rotation like Im sailin a ship

Or when the team circle the block busy trailin my clique

Truck packed fulla niggaz with the strap and the whip

Get the gat out of the stash put it back on my hip

Gat butt 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 victims initials engraved on the back of the clip

Chicks love the way we roll how the movement is thick

So official like my names on the back of your b**ch

Pay triple for the name on the back of the stitch

Name like the whole city now Im changin the pitch

Kick back kinda crazy when Im holdin the fifth

Think you nicer than the god sh*t is only a myth

Grab ahold of the masses I was born with a gift

Niggaz be runnin they trap throw em over the cliff

Thinkin and drinkin the guinness busy holdin the spliff

Flippin and shittin on niggaz til we old and we stiff

I dont 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