Lyrics Da' Businessman - B-Eazy, Tisha

Da' Businessman

What can’t I tell you that you niggas don’t know already?
Get ya doe, stack your paper like confetti
And get it fast, the game’s known to be shady
Jealous cats will hit you blindside
If your mind ain’t right!
Right?
That’s why I keep the nine right here!
Steer clear of player haters, snakes, fakes or queers
I mean niggas that seem funny
Give you pounds, wanna be down
When they see you round money
Funny thing is, can’t get none from me
Like a broke ATM: ain’t touching my money!
Dummy, what part of the game is that?
You gotta stack, if fact that part of the game you lack!
Well maybe that’s the reason why your game’s flat
Sit back, while I help you get your thang on track
Here’s tha game… brought to you by The Businessman!
Ha ha!
Sing the hook, uh
Eazy, you just don’t know what you’re doing
When you do it to me
Can’t fault, you’re doing your thang
They tried to play you, like they made you
They can’t do it your way
You can’t blame me, it’s tha game!
Look, I really don’t know how they made that pyramid thing
But you dealing with The King of The Pyramid Scheme
I swear I love life, steady living this dream
Nah, I don’t wanna wake up, I’m feeling this thing
Yeah I know I’m Black, but I’m getting this green
And won’t nothing hold B-Eazy back from getting this cream
I’m hyper than Will.I.Am directing this scene
How could somebody from the dirty, dirty shine so clean?
Cuz I remember laughing at budget, like «What's that?»
Till that little cents started making a little sense
And more & more, that change became evident
For evidence, check my bank account: Presidents!
And for that very reason, I set precedents
Whether it’s worked for, given to or its Heaven sent!
So what you telling Brent?
Save it, that’s irrelevant
Unfadeable, I made it through Hell with out a dent!
Eazy, you just don’t know what you’re doing
When you do it to me
Can’t fault, you’re doing your thang
They tried to play you, like they made you
They can’t do it your way
You can’t blame me, it’s tha game!
Peter played the piper, plus he payed Paul
Y’all streaming my CD and got my poster on your wall
All I know is ball, balling up the paper
Paper stand tall, tall as skyscrapers
Looking down, «Hi haters!»
I’m back up off hiatus
I ain’t accepting no favors
Call me Hip Hop’s Savior
Cooking up something major
Cuz the city named me mayor
And I would to, wait… elevator!
And I would like to thank the complete entire nation
To all the real G’s and all the enemies that made us
Into who we are, Superstars, and when I say us
That’s me, myself & I plus the papers
Catch the vapors, nigga!
Eazy, you just don’t know what you’re doing
When you do it to me
Can’t fault, you’re doing your thang
They tried to play you, like they made you
They can’t do it your way
You can’t blame me, it’s tha game!
Fuck a playerhater, I’m a paperchaser!
Was told to save your paper, baby
It gets greater, later!
But when your shit stalls, prepare for pitfalls
The game got me dog, don’t let it get y’all!
You gotta fall back & be ready to crawl back
But before you fall face flat, play this all back
Soon you’ll learn to knock 'em out the park, baseball bat
If that ain’t game, what you call that?
Real nigga shit!