Busta Rhymes - Thank You 歌词

Welcome to the bank
Where you deposit Young Money, and you get Cash Money
I'm Tunechi, the Boss
And live from the vault, is Busta Bust


Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yo
Swag mania, pop that goes most
Carry the most beautiful bitches
With us, happily toast
Keep the faculty close
Gross when we give them a dose
Got them ODing, leaning in each coast
Scenery froze, take notes, Rock Rolls
Diamonds that fit in Chanel Minks in the winter
Who fucking with us?
We coming to give them the shivers, watery flows, spilling like rivers
Flooding the street, hoping niggas' swimming is moving gorillas
King Kongs, Godzillas when we roll up
Seat filling niggas, get up when we show up


Uh, Shit
Please don't throw up
Hold your liquor, grow up
If you robbing niggas, we going to show you how to blow up
Thank your lucky stars, it's the Rap Czar, tuck your shit in
My niggas bite like Rin Tin Tin, my chagrin
You never win, model thin, walking crack in your shin
She gives in every time that I spin
Square up, bow down to the kings of the hall
We wade on, talk shit while we ball
So what's cracking with yall?


Made in New York, and the slick talking thieves of the order
Call the reporter, stepping like the British walkers
Legendary swag flu and see the influence, see how we do it
Get them into it steadily, Got em stupid, so undisputed
Act fool, back tool, until they pop off
Police crowd up the street, blocking them off, locking them off
Got these niggas wilding while I signal my soldiers
Postin' it up, maintaining composure, staying on the sofa
Thirty bottles, twenty waitresses, bring them over
See how we light up shit, nigga, call the promoter
And tell that nigga bring the bag, better hurry up with it
And count the money up proper, cause you can get it


Yeah
It feel good, don't it?
It feel good, don't it?
Hey, I want to let ya'll know
Hey, hey
I want to let yall know
This Yeezy
And you listening to Q-Tip


Set them up, stiletto up, saddle up and let's go
Good times, only difference, niggas is making it though
Chatter is up, peep the way we batter it up
On top of the mountain, folding the ladder up
You dead and done rip up your paper, cause your status is none
Transfixed on the strengths of the page, whether chopper or gauge
You're just a single, cause you wouldn't engage
Turnt up with the script on the cup, you keep the gobbles with us


See how we push sometimes man forget cuff, beat him the head
Boop-be-de-de-boff, zippity-boof
Beat him in the head again,
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