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Busta Rhymes

Trevor Tahiem Smith, Jr., (born May 20, 1972), better known by his stage name Busta Rhymes, is an American rapper, producer and actor. Chuck D of Public Enemy gave him the alias Busta Rhymes after NFL wide receiver George "Buster" Rhymes. Early in his career, he was known for his wild style and fashion, and today is best known for his intricate rapping technique, which involves rapping at a fast rate with lots of internal rhyme and half rhyme, and to date has received eleven Grammy nominations for his musical work. included him on its list of the 50 Greatest MCs of Our Time (1987–2007), while Steve Huey of Allmusic called him one of the best and most prolific rappers of the '90s. In 2012, The Source placed him on their list of the Top 50 Lyricists o… more »


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Old dro bottles, and blow, blowing from both zones
Laying in them Tahoes we own the projo's
Three for tenement we in the lobby with the big
(da dun dun dun) Don't move cause I'm a representative
Live for the street, ask, you die in the war
'member that, blast that three at ya, hide in the wall
We gangsta, republicans with them big things, big rings
Get your head shot off, daddy you don't believe chains
Loose cameras, big hammers, Station Wagon, blue Phantoms
Smokin the block up, y'all witness the zoo gamblers
We ain't taking no shorts, its just the early 80's
That made me, now I sit paid and then maybe
Nothing but my Lords and raps, these bags of dope
Under the mattress and I clack like a slave key
Wash your squad up, I roll double refuse to rock
Closed up my door up and murked you on the job 

[Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
Getting money like back in the days
niggas get like shower posse in a spec of the drug games
Slaying niggas, steady spraying niggas, till the task forces roll up
In unmarked vehicles and will be laying niggas
Streched out, focus, see you come back triple
When we O.T. cut it with baking soda, acquire now
Strategize, getting paper like the chivey Jamaicans
And them George Chain niggas, might we set up a goal?

[Busta Rhymes]
We got guns tucked in our waistlines, wit raps
Hanging from our back pockets miraculous money nigga
Can't stop at Sherlock, home can go's
Medallions so big wit strings you could turn 'em into banjos
Phenomenal property, drug money, scram wrap em
A hundred EX, golden like a hundred graham crackers
Sidewinding niggas tryna infiltrate blindside
A nigga hit you wit the eight, three in the club
Dumbing out, drunk in fronta the airbrush
Backdrop ones out, five dollars for bitches wit the guns out
Juggle for a couple days close shop thinking,
To you the bubble until the strip is hotter than a microwave
Don't stop, travel all my spare time and keep niggas wit us
To push shit like George Jefferson Airline
No fro niggaz better go chill, 'fore this gun
Goes up your nose like coke sniffing up your nose dude


Hey yo, snoop me kid, coop me in the red room booth
And eating Fruit Loops its all for the loot boo
Designated hammer that'll lay ya up scrambling
Blant ninjas get 'em more popped up, and start blowing niggas magnums up
Caught me in the mix wit some rich soldiers, that reaction
Is a key action, black sent forty doja's up
We hunt 'em like big plans, my big mans and them
Slick as the shit breaks from outtas you, rip dip, then quakes them

[Busta Rhymes]
See I was always good at science, in the class I was hoping
Ask 'em for the chemistry temperature now I'm cooking the coke up
Used to sit and watch them older niggas for hours
And did acknowledge to how cold water quickly harden the powder
Took your turn into something big to accredit 
But ya needs connect shit up from South America
Money calculations, told B.I.G. I sit up on it still
Holding old hundred dollar bills, wit small faces


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Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Memory Lane Music Group (Foreign)

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    "Goldmine Lyrics." STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 27 Sep. 2020. <>.

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