Busta Rhymes

Busta Rhymes - Holla lyrics

Yeah, yea

This shit sound like..

one two o'clock in the mornin with the full moon out

Niggaz in they trucks creepin

With a fresh box of ecstasy pills for these bitches

[Verse One]

Yeah, team select, please collect, G's connect

Thieves nigga direct the trees to the SmokeFest

Wanna take a toke? YES! The newest zone I'm in

I'm like Smithsonian nigga, fuck it call me Napoleon

Wave the torch, cut the head off the Leviathan

The terminology I'm rhymin in cause a frenzy up in Ireland

Hit ya, I'm gon get ya

And drop the bomb scripture at your barmitzvah

Yo, map shit out, blast through the speakers

With a wifebeater on, Bushe below, a new pair of sneakers

Street niggaz hang on the sidewalk, that's where I learned my fly talk

Pimp-strut, and how to skywalk

Moderatin how we establish the whole conglomerate

The way we honor it, you'll never conquer it

See how we wreck, has a global effect, on even Polish people

Young and restless down to the old and feeble

Peep them, Czechoslovakian to Yugoslavian niggaz

Be all into my bounce so don't be botherin niggaz

So NOW you should feel the whole cathedralish bounce

Put one in your stomach leave you in a fetalish crouch, nigga

My vernacular is spectacular

Strategic plans'll have you lookin wacker than a postal office massacre

Is that so? Make moves just like a fatso

Bounce in a minivan Astro after my gat BLOW!

[Chorus]

Aiyyo, get up, get up, get dough (get dough nigga)

Roll up, light up, and smoke that 'dro (smoke 'dro now)

Bitch shake yo' hips and bounce real slow

Niggaz rep yo' hood, I'm with that --

All my nig-gaz (all my niggaz) if you with me (if you with me)

Yeah I see you (yeah) HOL-LA

(Throw yo' guns in the motherfuckin air, c'mon!)

All my bitch-es, if you're with me (yeah all my bitches where you at now)

Yeah I see you (you know I see y'all) HOL-LA

[Verse Two]

Yeah, my whole entire mindstate deeper

than astronomy and mathematics like Galileo

Smash you niggaz like mashed potato

Back when niggaz used to rock Ballys and Clarks

I used to watch, little niggaz shouldn't hustle nickel crack in the park

Barrels spray the brighter flame in the dark

Blood spill stain on the street, that's how niggaz be leavin they mark

Fuckin with diplomats who love Bailey's

Monopolize and quickly get other money fuckin with Israelis

So solid how we be symbolic

to a handful of niggaz that be all schemin on the same wallet

Them type niggaz that be conspirin and kidnappin

Shit happens! Gun clap for you in a GIFT wrappin

You should follow how the style switch up

Like a group of religious niggaz schemin to kill they arch-bishop

You big pussy nigga actin all hard

Call me atheist, because I don't believe in you God

It's like a grand feast celebratin the bounce of the century

I tote the recipe quick for any type of discrepancy

Busta Rhymes the great renaissance artist and architect

Like how a Filippo Brunelleschi portrait is so hard to get

We got the obscure shit for the street

Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat

Yo, we got the obscure shit for the street

Nevertheless we split your head and your chest, now rock to the beat

[Chorus] w/ slightly different (ad libs)

[Busta Rhymes]

Holla at me now, c'mon!

Yeah.. Busta Rhymes, cookin up a little brown stew chicken

Dr. Dre niggaz, yea

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