Lyrics What Up - Busta Rhymes
(Scratched:
"It's
the
new!")
Yeah!
Yeah,
Busta
Bust
down,
Flipmode
now
I
know
what
y'all
feel
like
doin
Go
'head
and
crash
your
whip
in
the
fuckin
wall
It's
cool,
niggas.
we
gets
busy
(Verse
One)
Fo'
sho',
spit
rogue,
get
mo'
bout
to
kick
in
the
door
Dick
sore,
split
whores
'til
they
shit
on
the
floor
Clique
more
sick
from
when
you
use
to
see
us
before
Shit,
kill
a
nigga
quick,
niggas
know
my
rapport
Keep
workers
on
the
strip
that
be
ready
for
war
Brick
I
flip
a
little
quicker
if
they
shit
in
the
store
Rip,
maybe
'til
they
drop,
and
they
shit
in
they
drawers
Shit
crazy
when
I
pop,
and
I'm
grippin
the
four
Thick
bitches
in
the
spot,
watch
'em
strip
for
the
sport
Spit
vicious
for
the
block,
yeah
we
swingin
a
torch
Stick
niggas
for
they
shit,
thank
'em
for
they
support
Quick
nigga,
better
quit
snitchin
down
at
the
court
Check
track
a
little
slick
and
try
to
go
on
my
Forbes
Cause
we
stackin
like
we
rich,
and
we
holdin
the
fort
This
time,
we
had
to
bring
it,
guess
what
we
brought
The
hottest
shit
to
bang
from
L.A.
to
the
streets
of
New
York
(Chorus)
All
my
people,
get
drunk,
get
high
- WHATTUP?
Get
money,
get
rich,
get
fly
- WHATTUP?
Get
stupid,
get
busy,
get
live
- WHATTUP?
Jump
all
in
your
whip,
turn
the
key
and
drive
- WHATTUP?
Make
a
mill'
yeah
we
gon'
make
about
five
- WHATTUP?
We
speak
the
truth
and
we
ain't
talkin
no
jive
- WHATTUP?
I'm
speakin
to
the
streets
and
everybody's
widdit
- WHATTUP?
Once
again
you
know
we
only
come
to
get
it
- WHATTUP?
(Verse
Two)
Ha,
I
stay
wicked
now
I'm
back
on
the
strip
Like
I
went
on
a
vacation
and
I'm
back
from
my
trip
Nuff
radio
rotation
like
I'm
sailin
a
ship
Or
when
the
team
circle
the
block,
busy
trailin
my
clique
Truck
packed
fulla
niggas
with
the
strap
and
the
whip
Get
the
gat
out
of
the
stash,
put
it
back
on
my
hip
Gat
butt
you
in
the
face,
split
and
fatten
your
lip
Blood
hit
the
floor
louder
than
the
clap
when
it
drip
I
credit
your
name
with
bullets,
read
the
back
of
the
script
My
victim's
initials
engraved
on
the
back
of
the
clip
Chicks
love
the
way
we
roll,
how
the
movement
is
thick
So
official
like
my
name's
on
the
back
of
your
bitch
Pay
triple
for
the
name
on
the
back
of
the
stitch
Name
like
the
whole
city
now
I'm
changin
the
pitch
Kick
back
kinda
crazy
when
I'm
holdin
the
fifth
Think
you
nicer
than
the
God,
shit
is
only
a
myth
Grab
ahold
of
the
masses,
I
was
born
with
a
gift
Niggas
be
runnin
they
trap,
throw
'em
over
the
cliff
Thinkin
and
drinkin
the
Guinness,
busy
holdin
the
spliff
Flippin
and
shittin
on
niggas
'til
we
old
and
we
stiff
I
don't
even
drive
whips,
throw
the
shit
on
the
lift
12
hours,
one
worker
do
the
whole
of
the
shift
I
do
the
thing
to
make
you
open
your
mouth
And
give
you
shit
to
bang
the
Midwest
and
the
rest
of
the
South
(Chorus)
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