Busta Rhymes

Busta Rhymes - There'S Not A Problem My Squad Can'T Fix lyrics

rate me

[Jamal]

C'mon, yeah.. villain

C'mon, aight?

I got this side right here

Take this side right there

C'mon do this

Busta Bus

C'mon, aight?

C'mon (here we go) stayin street

[Jamal]

Paws, to the wall, with the dirty dog, raw rap-ture

If you ain't with it bite crotch til it break your jaw

(Your jaw) For tryin to knock us

Tryin to kill or stop us, jack our propers

Busta Bus, they fakin, the cake is for the takin

While they runnin they face, I'm lettin the plan bake

Formulate, now look at the plot, we got

more and more shit that's hot, show to rock the spot

Clock or knot, nigga the whole pot

Ready or not, we comin, snatchin every comer

witcha hoe in the Benz-O, dumbin like a motherfucker

[Busta Rhymes]

You can be my lady, you coul even be my lollipop sucker

The road dawg baby comin like the mad trucker

Lot of jealous niggaz lookin funnier than Chris Tucker

God bless, oh yes, I stay fresh

Full of finesse, my congress show progress

Stylish, hit you with the shit to digest

In this rhyme shit we be some of the world's finest

Your Highness, leavin corny niggaz spineless

Attack it with the classic rhyme flow timeless (ha ha)

Chorus: Busta Rhymes

Not a problem my squad can't fix

Cause we can do, it in the mix

So when you niggaz talk trash, you can get a bust ass

Cause you know we don't fuck around

When you niggaz talk shit, lay ya six feet under the ground,

ground ground, ground ground

When you niggaz talk shit, lay ya six feet under the ground,

ground ground, ground ground

[Jamal]

This is how we ride, throw your hands from side to side

It's party time, and don't forget get yours, cause I'ma get mine

(Who dat?) The villain til I'm peelin a million

Ridin dirty, and bustin like thirty-thirty, til a nigga end

Knowin that the shit is fucked I'm still here to win, cheddar

If you ain't about it then I think you better

hang the little plot you got, don't sweat it main

My nigga, my life's uncut like Kane, real _Raw_

Y'all don't know shit about Jamal or what I'm in it for:

cash, cars, fly whores and tours

Fillin my pipe, with no messes and no limits

Them other one scrimpin, has the tent froze frigid

Fall as a gimmick, dick lickin chasin chickens

I mash for the cash with the click and

rip a show then I'm dippin in the whip and high trippin

[Busta Rhymes

While y'all niggaz hoppin and skippin I stick the clip in, yo

Accelerate on the gas, move fast

Blast, find a nigga FOOT in your ass

Colorful niggaz, just peep the whole contrast

Flipmode is the Squad, a news flash

Bust your shit up, what the fuck, nigga get up

Violate, niggaz get they whole SHIT lit up!

Break fool, niggaz know the rules, rob jewels

Champagne bath, throw the Mo-et in the pool

Nigga caught a motherfuckin strain on the brain

ridin on the train, I'ma whip a Benz in the rain

Oversized click on the rise so realize we be

dem niggaz that dead up all you funny little small fries

The franchise, Flipmode damagin all of you Fall Guys

Yo I'm tired of niggaz they full of True Lies

No time.. we got the right surprise

Need a new beginnin, need to get a baptise

You need to get a baptise

Word is bond, aiyyo

Chorus

Ground, a-ground, a-gr-gr-ground-ground

Just party to the shit like this c'mon

Just bounce to the motherfuckin beat c'mon

You niggaz don't know my brand new song c'mon

Aiyyo, hear me out y'all, UHH

Yo, and just feel my shit

C'mon bounce what the fuck?

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