Bout My Business — текст песни (Ja Rule f Black Child, Caddillac Tah, Yo)

[Caddillac Tah]
Yeah..
Yeah, yeah, yo
I got a knack for pushin crack, and cookin raw coke
Fresh off the boat, no vest but I tote, and wear it like a coat
I`m starin through the scope, with one eye open and one shut
Zero in on the target, spark him and watch his head bust
Ain`t shit to discuss, unless it`s moneybags
or the SK-8, drop Jag with funny tags
Homey laugh now but die later when the lead dump
And double barrel slugs like Elmer Fudd, I`m handsome

[Black Child]
Some of your favorite rappers is flamin, I`m bangin things at them
They claim they gangster, lettin mens give brains to them
I aim the stainless, let the games begin
Bang bang dangerous, my gun gang famous
My hoes don`t speak english, catch `em at the foreign money exchange
New Armani leather in the Range
When you see my gang, tuck in your chain
We stuck in the game, we fuckin the same, bang!

[Chorus: INC]
[Merc] I`m bout my money and bout my business (bang!)
[B.C.] Shout out my niggaz en route to riches (bang!)
[B.C.] I doubt we different, hustlers pitchin (bang!)
[B.C.] And we all gon` get away, all my niggaz say
[Merc] I`m bout my money and bout my business (yeah!)
[B.C.] Whatta, bout my bitches who mouth is ridiculous (yeah!)
[B.C.] Gettin money and nigga it`s insignificant (yeah! what?)
[B.C.] Always get your pay, I love it when I hear `em say

[Black Child]
It`s back to business, stackin riches
If you, act suspicious, it`s a Wrap like Reynolds
Black Continental, mac outta the window
Black`s out of his mental, I black out with pistols
It ain`t confidential, all the shit I been through
Now I`m gettin money and a mill` is essential
Bang bang, nigga, `til the day we die
A tooth for a tooth and a eye for a eye

[Caddillac Tah]
Nigga you know it`s, business befo` pleasure, money over chicks
Dummies in the clip, nickel on my hip patrollin through the strip
Bet a stack, head crack, no rollin to the six
Scoop up my chips, then I split, with my beautiful bitch
Like Jada Pinkett Smith, for that paper I leave stinkin and stiff
Your pinky and wrist, and your necklace
Get removed nigga, my wolves is playin hardball
Leavin him bloody like a Pelican Bay yard brawl

[Chorus]

[Ja Rule]
Who wanna know why I got so much beef with so many rappers?
Drama, it`s the INC redrum spun backwards
Karma, is a muh`fucker watch your actions
Cause the clip to the max slips in bananas
I catch fire like matches {*whew*} then blow out
And the flyest crews goin the fastest
Pull up to the hottest club in New York, with my hazards on
No tags, I just drove it off the showroom floor
Straight cash, bout my paper, I`m on my gangster
Doin this shit for ten years, niggaz I`m major
Maybach and all that, same behaviour
Money over bitches, bitches over strangers
Guns befo` bangers but bangers do
For niggaz that had enough and ain`t got no clue
that they can get slayed, flex and get sprayed
And spin they head like yo` hottest DJ`s, motherfuckers!

[Chorus]

[Merc] I`m bout my money and bout my business..



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