A Trip Out of Town
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[Busta Rhymes] Yo, it all began like, bust it My nigga City bout to bounce on a trip We met some niggas with a lot of things they want em to flip I told my nigga get the dough and keep the blau on your hip Travel safe, you know that I'ma hold it down on the strip Good looking, 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 Doing 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 Throwing a nigga 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 nigga 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 fuckin wit some Guyanese niggas how ill them niggas is What kind of dough they get, and how they handle they biz How they connect with Jamaican niggas 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 ain't obvious out of towners Okay, I've never heard of workers getting five G's pay For trips that last for only 2-3 day How these Guyanese niggas be eating pasta but they love zucchini Rocking valor tennis suits by Sergio Tecchini Them type of cats that call you because you can't call 'em Rocking 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 niggas'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 f*ck with arrogant bitches who act pussy And love to hustle wit niggas and stash coke up in they pussy After all of that I wanted ones The way my nigga was talking 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 laying with gats Shit 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] "Hey yo why don't you tell that crackhead to close the fuckin door And shut the f*ck up" "Yeah man and clean the motherfucking spot up, smell like" "Break the fucking 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" "F*ck this shit" [Busta Rhymes] Yeah, see how we blowing pa The lookout niggas holding fort like they was watchtowers Bugging on how we went through, a half a brick every couple of hours So on and so on, shit is good and we eating First nigga to short a package will catch the most brutal beating The whole town, see we now own it Carrying on and blemishing all in the hearts of the best moments We stacking cheddar now and shit is all clear And we was growing as working niggas wit aspiring ideas We love to floss and the feeling of pushing chrome shit But in the grand scheme these niggas'll love to have they own shit Now these niggas was really ready to swell up We decided to separate from them niggas and make our shit develop Off in to the wilderness of the wicked Husid We set up shops and watched the games begin So now we balling like a motherfucker, money was sick Gas on the cheddar and these bitches ridin the dick Fucking everything from the local McDonald's bitches with the biggest ass To attorney bitches that'll beat a charge fast We used to taking niggas' custies and leave they set up on tilt And watch 'em angrily scheme on the shit that we built Ain't it funny how shit transpire in fact Not too long after our ride we took the winner's stash, house was at Some niggas tried to run a jook with things in they palm Not a problem so immediately reach for the john Right away the gun buist! straight lifted a nigga How we moved his organs with kickback, shifted a nigga Wild shots fire, everybody scatter like rats Leavingg nothing but gunpowder and a trail of smoke in these gats Now we got this fagot nigga blood on our hands But f*ck it, determined to fulfill the best of these plans Shit 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 bugging when my nigga 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 f*ck, y'all niggas want to rip? Well we deaded three out of the four niggas who tried to jook One nigga slid and think he got off the hook Now let me find out one out of them three niggas we bodied Was one of them Guyanese niggas who buy drinks up for the party He was the nigga to flood the table with champagnes Stupid motherfucker tried to front, we had to leak his brain Suddenly my nigga fell to the floor And said his legs feel like them shits ain't got no feelings no more More the actin up the more the shit I felt in my gut The shit was all over as soon as the director said CUT! That's a wrap, good acting motherfuckers, good acting That's the shit I'm talking about Y'all ready to watch the playback? F*ck around, that shit'll be a box office smash motherfuckers
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"A Trip Out of Town Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 27 Oct. 2021. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/25614902/Busta+Rhymes>.