Trae Tha Truth - Bussin Remix lyrics

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Trae Tha Truth - Bussin Remix lyrics

Bussin! They all bussin for Trouble-Trouble OG's, young n***as, n***as younger than them Bussin! They all bussin for Trouble-Trouble [Verse 1 - Trouble] One thing I'll never understand is How could a man be afraid of another man Who bleed the same as you and I can It's just with me you'll see more n***as than a NFL huddle Grandmas, uncles, aunties, sisters,cousins and brothers And they all bussin for Trouble Younnguns going off straight yam like y'all ready to cut you With a machete - f** you! And any other n***a Who sneak dissin get yo people missin Don't want no noboby to be scared Just be prepared The situation goons go get your dimes, tell em do as I say I said betta scream my name, p**y den tuck ya chain And it's a shame, cause you thought it was just my youngins dat shoot Surprised to see trouble was jumpin too (BUSSIN) [Verse 2 - Yo Gotti] Any n***a go against the king k** a n***a by any means n***a try to run but couldn't duck the beam CMG n***a dats the team Gunpowder, shells jump out, hit the ground p**y a** rappers keep talkin den man down Duct tape, what up trouble, 100 Man they rap about it but none of these n***as done it The hood, I'm from it And if I catch a murder one, I'm runnin You snitchin, I'm comin What's a n***a with some money without a team p**y a** n***a ain't no real n***a gene Gunplay, every time I step out on the scene Yellow tape, n***as shouldn'ta never crossed the king Murder rate, risin its the highest you ever scene Funeral, pinch yoself, b**h this not a dream And all I'm doin is bussin [Hook-Trouble] [Verse 3- Waka Flocka Flame} It ain't nothin to me sh** I get it done Try to run pump to ya back like bobby johnson son Ok, these n***as talkin murda I'm the type to hit they mama wit the f**in burner Beat a b**h and call me Ike Turner I'm from the Grove we get stripes if we burn ya I earn ya that mean DOA When the fo's pull up, they gon say flock don't play Bussin, on that grove man they bussin Upperdale, rex road man they bussin I'm from Clayco n***a squad give the say so n***a You ain't bout no murda you talkin out ya A-hole n***a [Hook-Trouble] [Verse 4 - Trae Tha Truth] They all bussin for Trae (4x) OG's, young n***as, n***as than them They all bussin for Trae (4x) OG's, young n***as, n***as than them Bussin I bet they all bussin for this a**hole When it come to Houston I'm the king of the streets In the bottom where n***as cash is low I'll put ya in a box if ya don't get low f** with me that's where ya a** will go Tec-9's, AKs and Mac 9's in the back of the trunk finna crash ya door Yeah b**h I might ride, wrap ya a** up b**h I'm for real, beat ya a** up Duct tape ya face, stain ya a** up Put ya in the trunk, bang ya a** up I don't do the talking, b**h I'm a army Hood Navy Seal, bet you can't harm me Lookin for me b**h I'm in the back of the tank on swangas I bet a muthaf**a won't bomb me I'll be damn if they stoppin this H-town to A-town I'm hood wit it For the n***as like to trap or try to bang Real talk you can tell em I'm good wit it Bring ya a** to the bottom of the city, bet you ain't gon make it up out it Every n***a I know represent the same sh** I do Doin they biz get ya a** the f** out [Hook - Trouble]

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