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