M.o.p. - Handle Ur Bizness lyrics

Check, check, check Chorus: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah Billy danze: handle your business Can't get your grip M.o.p: can i get a witness?! Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled Grip your steel Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah Billy danze: handle your business Can't get your grip M.o.p: can i get a witness?! Lil' fame: ghetto people, your dreams have now been fulfilled Back out your steel Rah*echoes* Verse one: lil' fame What the rawdog feelin? An author like, terry mcmillan The cat that, maniac My fam dark as d**h in less than a minute (the world stop spinnin) The rapid firing squad Keep on mix fire and (hard to k**) Loud wires and bombs, firing arms Look, we all for it Its the dutch burning herbalice Gallon drinkin alcoholics Walk through your toughest pack of goons with my chain out Kept it real ever since the first jam came out First family turned this whole rap game out Sheisty individuals, tryin to wipe my name out But they don't f** around cause they know i back that thing out And try to mark em off when the gun shots ring out And in the myst of black, kid i'ma try to wipe they name out And keep on dubbin till i break a f**ing spring out Chorus Verse two: billy danze You motherf**as better raise up (they already did) Who that? the '87 stick up kids (we're back!) I'm hopin that your focused on the side Cause frontin on me and my, mad n***az die Is this hiphop? hell no, this is war I've been trying to tell you that since ? rocked some hardcore You don't listen. see, gee I'm on a mission. look, be They gonna find your a** missing Ever since me and fame came, we maintained A strange, but a strong game (that can't change!) The real ghetto bad sh** for blastin, subtractin Those that ain't matchin my fashion i'm mashin (retality's real) fatality's ill When your stash in my path then your stash is a raw deal (clap, clap) get your gat (buckabuckabubububububububuckabucka) blow, blow, get the f** back Chorus Verse three: Lil' fame: face mine cause i'm here Dog its' all clear Rap j**els put it on my baseline from a snare Then the wanna doubt the kid Who an*lyze this whole f**ing sh**? Trying to make somethin out of it Explode quicker than landmines M.o.p. tapes make earthquakes and cause landslides Bump this in your lex coupe Or your lex hoop Danze, finish em, twenty-one gun salute (the crew) Billy danze: how many n***as runnin with me? *pause* (this few) A hundred n***az gunnin with me *pause* (to shoot) Firing squad, draw blood on the enemy At point-blank range, deliverin the penalty Ain't nothing but the thugs Slangin out hollow slugs (n***a), anti-love keepin it real (thug, let em slide today) I'm known best for leavin em stretchin like doc holliday Salute! *main beat stops, baseline continues* *beat comes back in*