歌曲 | Handle Ur Bizness |
歌手 | M.O.P. |
专辑 | 10 Years and Gunnin' |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Elliott, Grinnage, Murry | |
Check, check, check | |
Chorus: | |
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah | |
Billy danze:handle your business | |
Can't get your grip | |
M.o.p: can i get a witness?! | |
Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled | |
Grip your steel | |
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah | |
Billy danze: handle your business | |
Can't get your grip | |
M.o.p: can i get a witness?! | |
Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled | |
Back out your steel | |
Rah*echoes* | |
Verse one: lil' fame | |
What the rawdog feelin? | |
An author like, terry mcmillan | |
The cat that, maniac | |
My fam dark as death in less than a minute | |
(the world stop spinnin) | |
The rapid firing squad | |
Keep on mix fire and (hard to kill) | |
Loud wires and bombs, firing arms | |
Look, we all for it | |
Its the dutch burning herbalice | |
Gallon drinkin alcoholics | |
Walk through your toughest pack of goons with my chain out | |
Kept it real ever since the first jam came out | |
First family turned this whole rap game out | |
Sheisty individuals, tryin to wipe my name out | |
But they don't fuck around cause they know i back that thing out | |
And try to mark em off when the gun shots ring out | |
And in the myst of black, kid i'ma try to wipe they name out | |
And keep on dubbin till i break a fucking spring out | |
Chorus | |
Verse two: billy danze | |
You motherfuckas better raise up (they already did) | |
Who that? the '87 stick up kids (we're back!) | |
I'm hopin that your focused on the side | |
Cause frontin on me and my, mad niggaz die | |
Is this hiphop? hell no, this is war | |
I've been trying to tell you that since ? rocked some hardcore | |
You don't listen. see, gee | |
I'm on a mission. look, be | |
They gonna find your ass missing | |
Ever since me and fame came, we maintained | |
A strange, but a strong game | |
(that can't change!) | |
The real ghetto bad shit for blastin, subtractin | |
Those that ain't matchin my fashion i'm mashin | |
(retality's real) fatality's ill | |
When your stash in my path then your stash is a raw deal | |
(clap, clap) get your gat | |
(buckabuckabubububububububuckabucka) blow, blow, get the fuck back | |
Chorus | |
Verse three: | |
Lil' fame: face mine cause i'm here | |
Dog its' all clear | |
Rap jewels put it on my baseline from a snare | |
Then the wanna doubt the kid | |
Who analyze this whole fucking shit? | |
Trying to make somethin out of it | |
Explode quicker than landmines | |
M.o.p. tapes make earthquakes and cause landslides | |
Bump this in your lex coupe | |
Or your lex hoop | |
Danze, finish em, twenty-one gun salute | |
(the crew) | |
Billy danze: how many niggas runnin with me? *pause* (this few) | |
A hundred niggaz gunnin with me *pause* (to shoot) | |
Firing squad, draw blood on the enemy | |
At point-blank range, deliverin the penalty | |
Ain't nothing but the thugs | |
Slangin out hollow slugs | |
(nigga), anti-love keepin it real (thug, let em slide today) | |
I'm known best for leavin em stretchin like doc holliday | |
Salute! *main beat stops, baseline continues* | |
*beat comes back in* |
zuo qu : Elliott, Grinnage, Murry | |
Check, check, check | |
Chorus: | |
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah | |
Billy danze: handle your business | |
Can' t get your grip | |
M. o. p: can i get a witness?! | |
Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled | |
Grip your steel | |
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah | |
Billy danze: handle your business | |
Can' t get your grip | |
M. o. p: can i get a witness?! | |
Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled | |
Back out your steel | |
Rah echoes | |
Verse one: lil' fame | |
What the rawdog feelin? | |
An author like, terry mcmillan | |
The cat that, maniac | |
My fam dark as death in less than a minute | |
the world stop spinnin | |
The rapid firing squad | |
Keep on mix fire and hard to kill | |
Loud wires and bombs, firing arms | |
Look, we all for it | |
Its the dutch burning herbalice | |
Gallon drinkin alcoholics | |
Walk through your toughest pack of goons with my chain out | |
Kept it real ever since the first jam came out | |
First family turned this whole rap game out | |
Sheisty individuals, tryin to wipe my name out | |
But they don' t fuck around cause they know i back that thing out | |
And try to mark em off when the gun shots ring out | |
And in the myst of black, kid i' ma try to wipe they name out | |
And keep on dubbin till i break a fucking spring out | |
Chorus | |
Verse two: billy danze | |
You motherfuckas better raise up they already did | |
Who that? the ' 87 stick up kids we' re back! | |
I' m hopin that your focused on the side | |
Cause frontin on me and my, mad niggaz die | |
Is this hiphop? hell no, this is war | |
I' ve been trying to tell you that since ? rocked some hardcore | |
You don' t listen. see, gee | |
I' m on a mission. look, be | |
They gonna find your ass missing | |
Ever since me and fame came, we maintained | |
A strange, but a strong game | |
that can' t change! | |
The real ghetto bad shit for blastin, subtractin | |
Those that ain' t matchin my fashion i' m mashin | |
retality' s real fatality' s ill | |
When your stash in my path then your stash is a raw deal | |
clap, clap get your gat | |
buckabuckabubububububububuckabucka blow, blow, get the fuck back | |
Chorus | |
Verse three: | |
Lil' fame: face mine cause i' m here | |
Dog its' all clear | |
Rap jewels put it on my baseline from a snare | |
Then the wanna doubt the kid | |
Who analyze this whole fucking shit? | |
Trying to make somethin out of it | |
Explode quicker than landmines | |
M. o. p. tapes make earthquakes and cause landslides | |
Bump this in your lex coupe | |
Or your lex hoop | |
Danze, finish em, twentyone gun salute | |
the crew | |
Billy danze: how many niggas runnin with me? pause this few | |
A hundred niggaz gunnin with me pause to shoot | |
Firing squad, draw blood on the enemy | |
At pointblank range, deliverin the penalty | |
Ain' t nothing but the thugs | |
Slangin out hollow slugs | |
nigga, antilove keepin it real thug, let em slide today | |
I' m known best for leavin em stretchin like doc holliday | |
Salute! main beat stops, baseline continues | |
beat comes back in |
zuò qǔ : Elliott, Grinnage, Murry | |
Check, check, check | |
Chorus: | |
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah | |
Billy danze: handle your business | |
Can' t get your grip | |
M. o. p: can i get a witness?! | |
Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled | |
Grip your steel | |
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah | |
Billy danze: handle your business | |
Can' t get your grip | |
M. o. p: can i get a witness?! | |
Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled | |
Back out your steel | |
Rah echoes | |
Verse one: lil' fame | |
What the rawdog feelin? | |
An author like, terry mcmillan | |
The cat that, maniac | |
My fam dark as death in less than a minute | |
the world stop spinnin | |
The rapid firing squad | |
Keep on mix fire and hard to kill | |
Loud wires and bombs, firing arms | |
Look, we all for it | |
Its the dutch burning herbalice | |
Gallon drinkin alcoholics | |
Walk through your toughest pack of goons with my chain out | |
Kept it real ever since the first jam came out | |
First family turned this whole rap game out | |
Sheisty individuals, tryin to wipe my name out | |
But they don' t fuck around cause they know i back that thing out | |
And try to mark em off when the gun shots ring out | |
And in the myst of black, kid i' ma try to wipe they name out | |
And keep on dubbin till i break a fucking spring out | |
Chorus | |
Verse two: billy danze | |
You motherfuckas better raise up they already did | |
Who that? the ' 87 stick up kids we' re back! | |
I' m hopin that your focused on the side | |
Cause frontin on me and my, mad niggaz die | |
Is this hiphop? hell no, this is war | |
I' ve been trying to tell you that since ? rocked some hardcore | |
You don' t listen. see, gee | |
I' m on a mission. look, be | |
They gonna find your ass missing | |
Ever since me and fame came, we maintained | |
A strange, but a strong game | |
that can' t change! | |
The real ghetto bad shit for blastin, subtractin | |
Those that ain' t matchin my fashion i' m mashin | |
retality' s real fatality' s ill | |
When your stash in my path then your stash is a raw deal | |
clap, clap get your gat | |
buckabuckabubububububububuckabucka blow, blow, get the fuck back | |
Chorus | |
Verse three: | |
Lil' fame: face mine cause i' m here | |
Dog its' all clear | |
Rap jewels put it on my baseline from a snare | |
Then the wanna doubt the kid | |
Who analyze this whole fucking shit? | |
Trying to make somethin out of it | |
Explode quicker than landmines | |
M. o. p. tapes make earthquakes and cause landslides | |
Bump this in your lex coupe | |
Or your lex hoop | |
Danze, finish em, twentyone gun salute | |
the crew | |
Billy danze: how many niggas runnin with me? pause this few | |
A hundred niggaz gunnin with me pause to shoot | |
Firing squad, draw blood on the enemy | |
At pointblank range, deliverin the penalty | |
Ain' t nothing but the thugs | |
Slangin out hollow slugs | |
nigga, antilove keepin it real thug, let em slide today | |
I' m known best for leavin em stretchin like doc holliday | |
Salute! main beat stops, baseline continues | |
beat comes back in |