m talking about (Busta bust bitches) I'm so hood [Verse 3: Busta Rhymes] See all i know is that i go and get my money Again and again top down Let the
grind Stress hard on my soul and shackle my mind (we have to understand) Makin my heart cold and my head hot Cause's bread not Comin in and I'm losin
the sockets Tweed coat turned up against the fog Slow coaches rolling o'er the moor Between the very memory And approaches of war Stale bread curling
ANY MONEY! Fate has no price Ignore at your peril this splendid advice An invaluable link in an infinite chain An offer like this will just not come again
: Warm the wine and give it to me one more time again I'm just a rolling stone who needs a drop of rain And to taste your honey, Mona is like licking
see him, damn Baby you look good you're giving me wood You should pull over like a sweat shirt with a hood [? ] you and me both Break bread while I'm
dollar mouthpiece Black Tee, black rag, even got a black mask Leavin out ya house, thirty pounds in my book bag Black 'lac, black tag, fin' to hit a lick again
hours of leisure time of remedy Three months of pregnancy... It takes seven minutes to prepare the coffee And four and a half to eat a slice of bread
and sick Cause ain't nobody coming by the house giving free shit So he gettin kinda skinny and my brother's almost dead Got no other choice but for milk and bread
A-Fella We invite you to, somethin epic y'all know? Well we hustle out of a sense of, hopelessness Sort of a desperation Through that desperation, we 'come
me back Yeah hearin me rap is like hearin G. Rap in his prime I'm, young H.O., rap's Grateful Dead Back to take over the globe, now break bread I'm in
back Yeah hearin me rap is like hearin G. Rap in his prime I'm, young H.O., rap's Grateful Dead Back to take over the globe, now break bread I'm in, Boeing
Leavin the mall with heavy bags You know the boy got a love for the cash Aw fuck, there he go again Talkin bout hoes and dough again Yup! -- Can't hold
the block reason why I tried to hit them cops reason why I started hittin shots reason why I started gettin licked and drinkin syrup and skippin court ginger bread
: This shit is wicked on these mean streets None of my friends speak We're all trying to win, but then again Maybe it's for the best though, 'cause when
Hearin Me Rap Is Like Hearin G. Rap In His Prime I'm, Young H.O., Rap's Grateful Dead Back To Take Over The Globe, Now Break Bread I'm In, Boeing Jets
pass the weed to ya motherfuckin man GET EM HIGH Now I ain't never tell you to put down ya hands KEEP EM HIGH And if ya losin yo high than smoke again
where the fog sets Where you hear a whisper out of the darkness like (Yo yo, 2 for 5, Yo yo come here shorty shorty shorty Come here come here I got