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    Busta Rhymes / Lyrics

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    "Hey Ladies" Lyrics

    Busta Rhymes

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    Here we go now, yea
    C'mon, yea, check it

    [Verse One]
    I said my solo jump off, been boomin since nine-six
    My solo jump off, been boomin since nine-six
    Hittin trippin the circuit breaker, flickin the light switch
    The kid like is he known for givin you wild hits
    I keep my name on the way on top of the now list
    Bangin on every level, droppin the now shit
    It's like the feelin after watchin a couple of (?) flick
    And once you hear the kid, you'll be knowin the sound sick
    Spaz in the club, watchin the crowd flip
    That's when I knew the crown was up for whoever the crown fit
    Nowadays while I go bag me a fine bitch
    Bitch watchin my pocket, seein we wild rich
    Shorty hopin we smellin nothin like foul fish
    While you swingin ass at the devil, claimin you righteous
    A lot of haters I'm knowin you like this
    While you floss unnecessarily, sippin on wild Crist'

    Hold fo' in the back, two if you fat
    Feel it all in your gut, your neck and your back
    When you step up in the club I know you know how to act
    Hey SOLDIERS, get your floss on
    Va-let in the lot, park the Yukon
    Shorty shakin her waist, and rippin her thong
    Now all my people are muggin and singin the song, I'm sayin

    [Verse Two]
    Shit still boomin in two-thousand and three
    My shit still boomin in two-thousand and three
    And we don't give a fuck about who you claimin to be
    My jewels blind bitches where they ain't able to see
    These fools try to talk just a little much to a G
    They say the wrong shit, they head just might end upside of a tree
    Clear my thoughts just a little, pass me a cup of tea
    Takin different constant boats, from the land to the sea
    I got my paper see, I ain't doin nuttin for free
    Unless it's for the hood, it might cost you a small fee
    Niggaz all in the street, whylin whippin the V
    Clever from New York to Chicago back to the D
    Check it, take it back like when I was flippin a ki
    Bonin chicks, holdin titties like they was Pamela Lee
    You know I mastered the art and got it down to a tee
    And keep it goin add enough spice, we holdin the recipe
    Big paper we makin, all of my crew agree
    Stack more and bust up a bottle of Hennessy
    In case you niggaz ain't even knowin my pedigree
    Invested in resorts for the niggaz who go and ski
    If you ain't know the streets is belongin to me
    I get my people from the hood and then take 'em all on a spree shoppin
    While you niggaz is busy coppin the pleas
    We busy blowin frontin like you ain't knowin my stee'


    Yea, snap yo' fingers, c'mon
    [heavy breathing]
    Here we go now, yea
    This song was last modified on November 24th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc..
    Written by Ralph Leverston, Sean Puffy Combs, Steven A Jordan, Trevor Smith, Christopher Wallace.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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