What Up lyrics

Artist  : Busta Rhymes 
Song : What Up



 Send "What Up" Ringtone to your Cell 

 
Yeah!  Yeah, Busta Bust down, Flipmode now
I know what y'all feel like doin
Go 'head and crash your whip in the fuckin wall
It's cool, niggaz.. we gets busy

[Verse One]
Fo' sho', spit rogue, get mo' bout to kick in the
door
Dick sore, split whores 'til they shit on the
floor
Clique more sick from when you use to see us
before
Shit, kill a nigga quick, niggaz know my rapport
Keep workers on the strip that be ready for war
Brick I flip a little quicker if they shit in the
store
Rip, maybe 'til they drop, and they shit in they
drawers
Shit crazy when I pop, and I'm grippin the four
Thick bitches in the spot, watch 'em strip for
the sport
Spit vicious for the block, yeah we swingin a
torch
Stick niggaz for they shit, thank 'em for they
support
Quick nigga, better quit snitchin down at the
court
Check track a little slick and try to go on my
Forbes
Cause we stackin like we rich, and we holdin the
fort
This time, we had to bring it, guess what we
brought
The hottest shit to bang from L.A. to the streets
of New York

[Chorus]
All my people, get drunk, get high - WHATTUP?
Get money, get rich, get fly - WHATTUP?
Get stupid, get busy, get live - WHATTUP?
Jump all in your whip, turn the key and drive -
WHATTUP?
Make a mill' yeah we gon' make about five -
WHATTUP?
We speak the truth and we ain't talkin no jive -
WHATTUP?
I'm speakin to the streets and everybody's widdit
- WHATTUP?
 
Once again you know we only come to get it -
WHATTUP?

[Verse Two]
AOWWWWWWW!!  Ha, I stay wicked now I'm back on
the strip
Like I went on a vacation and I'm back from my
trip
Nuff radio rotation like I'm sailin a ship
Or when the team circle the block, busy trailin
my clique
Truck packed fulla niggaz with the strap and the
whip
Get the gat out of the stash, put it back on my
hip
Gat butt you in the face, split and fatten your
lip
Blood hit the floor louder than the clap when it
drip
I credit your name with bullets, read the back of
the script
My victim's initials engraved on the back of the
clip
Chicks love the way we roll, how the movement is
thick
So official like my name's on the back of your
bitch
Pay triple for the name on the back of the stitch
Name like the whole city now I'm changin the
pitch
Kick back kinda crazy when I'm holdin the fifth
Think you nicer than the God, shit is only a myth
Grab ahold of the masses, I was born with a gift
Niggaz be runnin they trap, throw 'em over the
cliff
Thinkin and drinkin the Guinness, busy holdin the
spliff
Flippin and shittin on niggaz 'til we old and we
stiff
I don't even drive whips, throw the shit on the
lift
12 hours, one worker do the whole of the shift
I do the thing to make you open your mouth
And give you shit to bang the Midwest and the
rest of the South

[Chorus]