Busta Rhymes - The Whoop lyrics

[Hook (shortened)-Busta Rhymes] All my n***as all my b**hes Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool You know my style, get crunk b**hes bounce n***as bounce And let me give you that funk sh** blunt sh** [Verse 1-Ras Ka**] I spit that, super ugly, take over ether Talk from my urethra and piss out the speaker Beef co*king the heater, meet greet and defeat ya The glitch in the matrix busting' nuts on (zeta?) Add insult to injury when I see ya Like Ike buying his ex-wife Tina White wife-beaters, (why envida?), Loui Vitton stripes on my Kobe to Adidas Red wine (?) and break your motherf**ing FEMA Team-up, the future, Golden State, NWA 2K trait, hold-up wait We bubble two if we f**ing wit you, blow that eight Just fifty get with me b**h hit me like bou Just stick me, slick risky but true Keep my money on my mind (mind) My mind on my grind My grind on my nine I put that on my mama It gotta, rock in the ring (bigger than what) Bigger than WWE smackdown So f** carrot's chain got rabbits Same bad habbits Aim to live lavish so back down [Hook-Busta Rhymes] All my n***as all my b**hes Get high, get drunk get wild blunt fool You know my style, get crunk b**hes bounce n***as bounce And let me give you that funk sh** blunt sh** While a n***a bang outcha trunk [Bridge 1-Dina Rae] Street-slang ought to talk a lotta Tell police sirens and coppers Club pack cause the beat is hotter If you go real deep than Imma [Verse 2-Ras Ka**] Bid your whole, over style So what you know about Pa** the Courvoisier, Busta show me how Canary-yellow diamond, the Goldyn Chyld b**h play like a jock strap on hard dicks and hold me down Pound-for-pound, I spit rounds the sickest (gold pound) Incase fours for you all (???) ‘Cause when I draw, huh, ain't to paint the town red I'm too s**y to be dead ‘Bout to sell a couple million units Host MTV, renegotiate for 1.3 Put the babies through college Then expose how many of you so-called rappers is garbage And that's logic, Doc Dre got us Grow some more than movies about spiders, Jedis, and hobbits Hip-hop's hottest Can't front, I'm not as modest But promise, to spread over these bread like bubonics (holla) [Hook] [Bridge 2-Dina Rae] Nothing but the heat and put it (RK: hop in ya) Strictly for the street and put it [Interlude-Ras Ka**] Out the cut Doc Dre Ras Ka** Bus-A-Buss (BR: All my b**hes) Dr. Dre-“Whoopty Whoop, n***a what” [Verse 3-Ras Ka**] I walk on mouse traps just for the cheese Can't f** with a chick 'less you giving her three bees Back-rubs, blow jobs, and breakfast in bed But rather Bill Gates and get breaded instead Fly n***a, (???), dope as me My sh** don't stank, b**h please, I push popery You know how it supposed to be, in your city high Rubbing the thighs and call that Ortiz [Bridge 1] [Hook (2X)]