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      A Trip Out Of Town

      A Trip Out Of Town

      Busta Rhymes

      Album: Anarchy

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      Busta Rhymes - A Trip Out Of Town Música y Letra

      [Busta Rhymes]
      yo, it all began like, bust it
      My nigga City bout to bounce on a trip
      We met some niggas with alot 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 lookin, 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
      Doin 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
      Throwin 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 Jamaician 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 aint obvious out of towners
      Okay, I've never heard of workers gettin five G's pay
      For trips that last for only 2-3 day
      How these Guyanese niggas be eatin pasta but they love zucchini
      Rockin valor tennis suits by Sergio Tecchini
      Them type of cats that call you because you can't call 'em
      Rockin 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 fuck 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 talkin 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 layin wit 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
      Ayo why don't you tell that crackhead to close the fuckin door
      and shut the fuck up
      Yeah man and clean the motherfucking spot up, smell like...
      Break the fuckin 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
      Fuck this shit
      [Busta Rhymes]
      Yeah, see how we blowin pa
      The lookout niggas holdin fort like they was watchtowers
      Buggin on how we went through, a half a brick every couple of hours
      So on and so on, shit is good and we eatin
      First nigga to short a package will catch the most brutal beatin
      The whole town, see we now own it
      Carryin on and blemishing all in the hearts of the best moments
      We stackin cheddar now and shit is all clear
      And we was growin as workin 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 ballin like a motherfucker, money was sick
      Gas on the cheddar and these bitches ridin the dick
      Fuckin everything from the local McDonald's bitches with the biggest ass
      To attorney bitches that'll beat a charge fast
      We used to takin niggas' custies and leave they set up on tilt
      And watch 'em angrily scheme on the shit that we built
      Aint 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 BUST! straight lifted a nigga
      How we moved his organs with kickback, shifted a nigga
      Wild shots fire, everybody scatter like rats
      Leavin nothing but gunpowder and a trail of smoke in these gats
      Now we got this faggot nigga blood on our hands
      But fuck 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 buggin 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 fuck, y'all niggas wanna 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 aint got no feelins 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 actin motherfuckers, good actin
      That's the shit I'm talkin about
      Y'all ready to watch the playback?
      Fuck around, that shit'll be a box office smash motherfuckers
      [THE END]

      Busta Rhymes - A Trip Out Of Town Música y Letra





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