lirik lagu busta rhymes - where's my fuckin money
intro:]
ayo green… i feel like i’m turnin green too!
from bill b-tch b!… to some incredible hulk sh-t!
i don’t even know why u give me sh-t like this to spit to?
i’m sure we speak the same language
f-ck you b-tches… pay me!
[verse 1:]
(haa)
wait a minute… came to go get it… ranger fitted
whenever it come to paper… better know i’m major with it
make it rain a major blizzard… leather alligator lizard
i talledega race any challenger name a didgit
even if on the slightest you take a smidget
or dare touch my revenue i slice you with the razor quit it
icey till i make it frigid… (burrrr)…
the laws of physics says it’s getting cold… my money taller than a hall of midgets
i get up all up in it, kickin down the door (who is it!?)
b-tch i be the crew of bill collectors… pay the mall a visit
after cleanin bank accounts you questioned if i gave a sh-t
if not i tell the truth so you could tell em that the player did it (heyaaa)
it’s ok i say a prayer it’s the mayor bit-tch slayer
givin you another layer of the data
tritick bust rhymes… hittin you with punch lines funny
how i f-ck dimes… b-tch you know i want mine, where my f-ckin money? !
[hook:]
i ain’t speakin foreign… you know what i’m saying
better have my bread n-gg- i ain’t playin
(b-tch… where my f-cking money?)
mark every word… spoken reddish so your p-ssy
if you think i’m jokin?
(muhf-cker… where my f-ckin money?)
think i still ain’t crazy cause i cut my dread
and if you short my cake i’m off side of your head
(b-tch where my f-ckin money?)
[verse 2:]
(ohhhh)
critical it’s pitifull i’m cynical how i deliver lyricals and take these other n-gg-s paper
topsy-tervy controversy i’m so thirsty go no mercy for some of these b-tches… i collect my money now and later
keep it movin with the clique… while making b-tches h-t the strip
cake up everyday i wake i rate the way my money flip
i want it’s mine… borderline… call it crime… all the shine
i’m takin it, ain’t no mistakin it n-gg- what’s yours is mine
no need to second guess it check i’m the gloss and grind
the gritty and the floss, the profit and the loss all intertwined
because i profit from your losses, you don’t want it… you should get it
in the hood with you money… i extended my line of credit
the medic… doctor ryhmes that put you on a dihharettic
shrinkin up a n-gg- pockets, simple n-gg-z style pathetic
bust rhymes… hittin you with punch lines funny
how i f-ck dimes… b-tch you know i want mine, where my f-ckin money? !
[hook:]
i ain’t speakin foreign… you know what i’m saying
better have my bread n-gg- i ain’t playin
(b-tch… where my f-cking money?)
mark every word… spoken reddish so your p-ssy
if you think i’m jokin?
(muhf-cker… where my f-ckin money?)
think i still ain’t crazy cause i cut my dread
and if you short my cake i’m off side of your head
(b-tch where my f-ckin money?)
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