| Did a little bit of jail time, now I’m back in the house
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| And I’m jonesin', and you know what I’m thinking about
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| Sex, and in the studio getting mine
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| Ain’t dropped a tape since, uh, ‘89
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| I was crossed up by some brothers that be jackin'
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| So if you bought that tape and felt that it was lackin'
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| Here’s that missing link, and my apologies extended
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| That shit jumped off but that ain’t how it was intended
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| But yo, peep it, I’m the creator of that old shit
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| You know it fa sho, that’s why my old shit hit
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| And now I’m to the head, I’ma let you fools see
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| What Double R can do solo, ‘cause I’m busta phree
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| Busta free… in the night
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| Straight solo, he’s solo
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| He’s busta phree… in the day
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| Straight solo, straight solo
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| But now that jailhouse is full of brothas that be bustin'
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| But I can’t bite, I’m not that nigga to be trustin'
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| The drag and the drama about the things they be havin'
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| See them fools on the street, and I be laughin'
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| ‘Cause they tore back—oh, where your Cadillac at?
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| Oh now it’s in the shop—fool, you sniffin' hop
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| And getting dime thangs—trick, them screens ain’t even clean
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| That’s a damn shame—all that time, he was a fiend
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| But look, that ain’t that the half—I heard ‘em worse than that
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| They got brothas in jail with a hundred G’s stacked
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| That ain’t impossible, I’ve seen brothas that raw
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| But now when commissary come, this nigga don’t even draw
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| He jocks my sack—"Yo Rich, shoot some soup"
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| Hey, what’s the scoop? |
| I thought you had a hundred G’s, troop?
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| Get off my dizick, support your own damn habits
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| Get dry draggin', and acting like you living lavish
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| You’s a struggler, straight broke, that’s no joke
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| Using heroin, speed, crank, and probably white dope
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| Telling lies ‘cause you was bunkin' with me
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| I couldn’t wait ‘til my release date to be busta phree
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| Busta free… in the night
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| Straight solo, he’s solo
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| He’s busta phree… in the day
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| Straight solo, straight solo, yeah
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| Now you can bounce, rock, skate, and roll
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| But don’t side bust, ‘cause brotha, I trust
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| That you could peep the game in the script I spit
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| And ain’t no shame in my game, I kick that saucy shit
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| Now I can’t run my caper, spend a boatload of paper
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| Without one of these old marks catchin' the vapors
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| They wantin' to hang out and fight for me at my shows
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| Dog the blunts, and showstop on the hoes
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| I’m getting sick of this busta shit
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| I’m ‘bout to blast out, stab out, mash out
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| And try my best to get further
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| Before these cats in the Town make the Double catch a murder
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| And on the stand when I enter my plea
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| I’m straight guilty, one time, but now I’m busta phree
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| Believe that
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| Free… free, yeah
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| Straight solo, he’s solo
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| Free… free, yeah
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| Straight solo, straight solo, yeah
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| Oh, the funk is on, it’s on its way (It's on its way)
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| Ballin' every night and every day (Every day, yeah)
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| Oh, the funk is on, it’s on its way (On its way)
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| Ballin' every night and every day (And every day, yeah, hey)
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| Ballin' every night and every, every day
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| Ballin' every night and every day, yeah |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Busta Phree, artist - Richie Rich. Album song Half Thang, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп