M.o.p. - Handle Ur Bizness Lyrics
Check, check, checkChorus:AaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahBilly danze: handle your businessCant get your gripM.o.p: can I get a witness? !Lil fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilledGrip your steelAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahBilly danze: handle your businessCant get your gripM.o.p: can I get a witness? !Lil fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilledBack out your steelRah*echoes*Verse one: lil fameWhat the rawdog feelin?An author like, terry mcmillanThe cat that, maniacMy fam dark as death in less than a minute(the world stop spinnin)The rapid firing squadKeep on mix fire and (hard to kill)Loud wires and bombs, firing armsLook, we all for itIts the dutch burning herbaliceGallon drinkin alcoholicsWalk through your toughest pack of goons with my chain outKept it real ever since the first jam came outFirst family turned this whole rap game outSheisty individuals, tryin to wipe my name outBut they dont ***** around cause they know I back that thing outAnd try to mark em off when the gun shots ring outAnd in the myst of black, kid ima try to wipe they name outAnd keep on dubbin till I break a *****ing spring outChorusVerse two: billy danzeYou mother*****as better raise up (they already did)Who that? the 87 stick up kids (were back!)Im hopin that your focused on the sideCause frontin on me and my, mad niggaz dieIs this hiphop? hell no, this is warIve been trying to tell you that since ? rocked some hardcoreYou dont listen. see, geeIm on a mission. look, beThey gonna find your ass missingEver since me and fame came, we maintainedA strange, but a strong game(that cant change!)The real ghetto bad shit for blastin, subtractinThose that aint matchin my fashion Im mashin(retalitys real) fatalitys illWhen your stash in my path then your stash is a raw deal(clap, clap) get your gat(buckabuckabubububububububuckabucka) blow, blow, get the ***** backChorusVerse three:Lil fame: face mine cause Im hereDog its all clearRap jewels put it on my baseline from a snareThen the wanna doubt the kidWho analyze this whole *****ing shit?Trying to make somethin out of itExplode quicker than landminesM.o.p. tapes make earthquakes and cause landslidesBump this in your lex coupeOr your lex hoopDanze, 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 enemyAt point-blank range, deliverin the penaltyAint nothing but the thugsSlangin out hollow slugs(nigga), anti-love keepin it real (thug, let em slide today)Im known best for leavin em stretchin like doc hollidaySalute! *main beat stops, baseline continues**beat comes back in*
