The Monument

Busta RhymesBusta Rhymes 

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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. About.com 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 »

Year:

2013

2:38

45 Views

Playlists:

#1

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[Busta Rhymes]
Yeah, yeah yeah now, what the f*ck now?
Flipmode Wu-Tang shit, what the f*ck now?
Yeah yeah yeah..
Historical and monumental shit
What the f*ck now? Yeah, yeah, yeah

Straight smack a nigga right in the face like this was handball
Or make a mural out his face up on a damn wall
Niggas play hard and shit, if you know what's best for you
Why y'all niggas better safeguard your shit
Even though we rep brass knuckle rap
F*ck with street geniuses and bowlegged chicks who walk with a gap
Street niggas now the corporate boss
Still go to why y'all restaurant for steamed fish and Irish moss
And why-yo, the way we do it and you see how my shit bomb
Your whole show wack and I'ma cancel your sitcom
F*ck a nigga broad 'til she tired and real calm
You ain't knowing my name tattooed on your bitch arm
The way we blow shit is a shame
Casually bust my gun and celebrate busting a cork on the champagne
Wrote you with a whole new approach that lead a whole team of niggas
Why'all should know I only ball like a coach, now!

[Raekwon the Chef]
Check out the light fixture, freak lines like white bitches
Let the mic lines - hang that slang is ridiculous
Emperor of warlords, big gun only f*ck with sawed-offs
That's my specialty, more to bust
Shot out my bed parrot keep it gangster Lord
I analyze your work those that got merked were not established
Texture look classy, arm baby 2000 raspberry
S-5, blowin through Asbury
Soon to own steakhouses, glowin like makeover thousand
Them them niggas, robbing from Pinkhouse's
Show and prove, knocking off cab drivers
God, sodomize money, ring two hundred thousand
See the color of the carved out Wu emblem
Baby, it's all designers, tailor-made Wu gooses
Limousine, automatic new Uzi's in 'em yo
Relax, cousin just cruise through, jewels with him

[GZA]
Move up the block, giant box blast my song
Non-stop strictly hip-hop, march on
Doo-rag hang long, metal tape is high-bias
Graphics, captured with the colorful, iris
I zoom in, while the listeners tune in
Some assuming they paid dues and joined the union
Lost nigga couldn't rumble in this wild jungle
Quick to crumble, type to be on the stand and fumble
Divine Master, threw on the track that made 'em bleed
He produce at unattainable rains of top speed
This powerful magnet, that left 'em stagnant
Was unlikely in cameras in larger fragments
Un-filled rifle, scout sniper, shots precise
Starlight scope, with the night vision device
Splendid marksman, that'll shoot the one off the dice
Split a grain of rice, in one shot we kill 'em twice

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