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Bout My Business lyrics (feat. Black Child, Caddillac Tah, Young Merc)
[Caddillac Tah] Yeah.. Yeah, yeah, yo I got a knack for pushin crack, and cookin raw coke Fresh off the boat, no vest but I tote, and wear it like a coat I'm starin through the scope, with one eye open and one shut Zero in on the target, spark him and watch his head bust Ain't shit to discuss, unless it's moneybags or the SK-8, drop Jag with funny tags Homey laugh now but die later when the lead dump And double barrel slugs like Elmer Fudd, I'm handsome
[Black Child] Some of your favorite rappers is flamin, I'm bangin things at them They claim they gangster, lettin mens give brains to them I aim the stainless, let the games begin Bang bang dangerous, my gun gang famous My hoes don't speak english, catch 'em at the foreign money exchange New Armani leather in the Range When you see my gang, tuck in your chain We stuck in the game, we fuckin the same, bang!
[Chorus: INC] [Merc] I'm bout my money and bout my business (bang!) [B.C.] Shout out my niggaz en route to riches (bang!) [B.C.] I doubt we different, hustlers pitchin (bang!) [B.C.] And we all gon' get away, all my niggaz say [Merc] I'm bout my money and bout my business (yeah!) [B.C.] Whatta, bout my bitches who mouth is ridiculous (yeah!) [B.C.] Gettin money and nigga it's insignificant (yeah! what?) [B.C.] Always get your pay, I love it when I hear 'em say
[Black Child] It's back to business, stackin riches If you, act suspicious, it's a Wrap like Reynolds Black Continental, mac outta the window Black's out of his mental, I black out with pistols It ain't confidential, all the shit I been through Now I'm gettin money and a mill' is essential Bang bang, nigga, 'til the day we die A tooth for a tooth and a eye for a eye
[Caddillac Tah] Nigga you know it's, business befo' pleasure, money over chicks Dummies in the clip, nickel on my hip patrollin through the strip Bet a stack, head crack, no rollin to the six Scoop up my chips, then I split, with my beautiful bitch Like Jada Pinkett Smith, for that paper I leave stinkin and stiff Your pinky and wrist, and your necklace Get removed nigga, my wolves is playin hardball Leavin him bloody like a Pelican Bay yard brawl
[Chorus]
[Ja Rule] Who wanna know why I got so much beef with so many rappers? Drama, it's the INC redrum spun backwards Karma, is a muh'fucker watch your actions Cause the clip to the max slips in bananas I catch fire like matches {*whew*} then blow out And the flyest crews goin the fastest Pull up to the hottest club in New York, with my hazards on No tags, I just drove it off the showroom floor Straight cash, bout my paper, I'm on my gangster Doin this shit for ten years, niggaz I'm major Maybach and all that, same behaviour Money over bitches, bitches over strangers Guns befo' bangers but bangers do For niggaz that had enough and ain't got no clue that they can get slayed, flex and get sprayed And spin they head like yo' hottest DJ's, motherfuckers!
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