Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Nothin' But Business , by - Slaine. Song from the album The Boston Project, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 15.04.2013
Record label: Suburban Noize
Song language: English
Nothin' But Business |
| Microphone check 1, 2, what is this? |
| Microphone check 1, 2, what is this? |
| YEAH! |
| I’m the stage crasher |
| High out my mind at the rave bastard |
| Despised by the mass-media call the gay basher |
| Every statement that I make stays for days after |
| Internet pussies LOLin with the brave laughter |
| Some backpacker try an battle me i’ll slap ya |
| This me, This is how I had ta be, I mean it has ta |
| Every minute I’m alive is an obscene disaster |
| I like the dark, it’s in my heart, fuck a greener pasture |
| I’m withdrawn from all the fucking shit I’m on |
| Living wrong, hear my hatred seep through every bitter song |
| Sleep on me, you’re a sheep, you’re a coward, I’m a creep |
| Hold a blade to your neck, shove it in deep |
| My records runnin' the streets, reckless son of a beach, punned up freak |
| Only dealin' G’s that’s my steez, I make a hundred a week |
| Dime pieces suck me 'til I come in the cheek, under the sheets |
| Dumb as they can be they call it ignorance, it’s money to me |
| Fuck the world dog I’m staying with the cash on me |
| I ain’t hard to find, go ahead and ask for me |
| Microphone check 1, 2, what is this? |
| You can take it personal it’s nothing but business |
| A little weed smoke, and some liquor |
| Throw your motherfucking hands in the air |
| We got a eight ball and some bitches |
| Put your motherfucking hands in the air |
| Wow, lost in the high wave |
| Amber Rose smirnoff shots top with high grain |
| Two hoes they tops exposed low grade |
| C’s D’s and ass with a pro rate |
| You playin' a probate, lockin her to the home |
| I’m letting her live the porn way, she locked to a bone |
| I’m menage in my home, you moist palm and grown |
| With your wife in the next room playing BR’s songs |
| You playing all wrong, she ain’t paying the coaches salary |
| Can’t be Mickey and Mallory no more |
| Just pimpin' at my home with a flat in Cabo |
| They fax my next flow, flip text with escrows, so pass the XO |
| I’m drunk and it doesn’t bother me |
| Since I ain’t living in poverty no more |
| This the panoramic roof with the two tone flow |
| And I don’t need to know shit if I do know dough |
| So |
| Fuck the world dog I’m staying with the cash on me |
| I ain’t hard to find, go ahead and ask for me |
| Microphone check 1, 2, what is this? |
| You can take it personal it’s nothing but business |
| A little weed smoke, and some liquor |
| Throw your motherfucking hands in the air |
| We got a eight ball and some bitches |
| Put your motherfucking hands in the air |
| Who’s nastier?, No one spit the news raspier |
| I’ll chew half of ya |
| My crews after you, Massacre |
| In the street making cake flip, No spatula |
| Passenger, In the acura with a after puff |
| Laughing, But ain’t nothing funny but the money |
| I’m hungry, You give me counterfeit you take it from me |
| I throw your ass off a fucking bridge and cut the bungees |
| Spit a lungie from my tummy on your corpse you fucking dummy |
| If you do survive you be looking like the mummy |
| The new Hefner, turn your bitch into my bunny |
| Pour some gin for me, Patrone second round |
| Grey Goose 80 proof mix it up, Put it down |
| Ahh throw your hands up, throw your grands up |
| Get your man smacked just for tryin to hand cuff |
| Get a damn slut to get my glands buffed in my man’s truck |
| On the camera, that’s the plan it’s your man Knuck |
| Fuck the world dog I’m staying with the cash on me |
| I ain’t hard to find, go ahead and ask for me |
| Microphone check 1, 2, what is this? |
| You can take it personal it’s nothing but business |
| A little weed smoke, and some liquor |
| Throw your motherfucking hands in the air |
| We got a eight ball and some bitches |
| Put your motherfucking hands in the air |