Wyniki wyszukiwania: Busta Rhymes Gimme Some More

"(Winwood/Winwood/Davis) Well, my temp'rature's risin' and my feet on the floor, Twenty people knockin' 'cause they're wanting some more, Let me in, baby, I don't know what you've got, But you'd better"

"(Winwood, Davis, Winwood) Well the temperature's rising, I've seen it before Crazy people rockin' like they wanted some more Let me in baby, I don't know what you've got But you better take it easy, L.A.'s"

"Written by Natalie Cole Gimme some time, Baby I know you're thinking that I'm playing But I'm saying that I wouldn't hurt you for the world, oh no I'm not so blind, Baby I need your lovin' and you"

"Gimme some time, Baby I know you're thinking that I'm playing But I'm saying that I wouldn't hurt you for the world, oh no I'm not so blind, Baby I need your lovin' and you know it (yes, I do, well) 'cause"

"1.Well, my temperature's rising and my feet left the floor, crazy people knockin' 'cause they're wanting some more let me in Baby, I don't know what you've got but you'd better take it easy, this place"

"<(Verse 1 - Obie Trice) Yeah, Obie Trice, real name no gimmicks I came in the game, profane no image I came in the game, with a name I was given from a mayn who ain't give a fuck about his child-ren I proclaim the name though, never in vain no Watch the change grow, a young nigga who didn't gain from fame Copped the Range Ro', now they want my brains on the main road They don't understand what I came for How I came fo', with a million sold Who say you can't grow from mildew and mold Gettin money like Ross Perot I'm often told, a coffin's the routes I go Oh that's the road you on, oh no I'm down for the rifle, tone the fo fo Don't ever try to send a nigga home, no no I know you wanna catch me at Sunoco Show me that your loco put holes in my photo NOPE!, HOPE!, hold toast, no jokes, send slugs through your Polo Just cause our thug roll solo And po' zone grown folk, be a cold negro Be-low, your grieved up people Be-lieve that the boy see no evil (Chorus - Busta Rhymes) OHH! I had you yellin out when I backed a 30/30 Rifle OHH! Too late for niggaz to get religious and start readin they Bible OHH! See you can yell like other niggaz, your pickin a dirty psycho OHH! See you should make peace instead of makin me become a psycho (Verse 2 - Obie Trice) I visualized it, O. Trice at 25 survived it Bright but violent, invite the violence Fist fight a fireman, be a tyrant 'Til these niggaz nights is silent O. Trice from a trife environment He 'Rock's the Mic' no sight of retirin Maybe when the bank accounts light like a fire thin I'm in the position to hire other clients then Meanwhile I'm a virus like Iverson A nigga crossover, Europeans admirin And the soldier's retirin, I ain't buyin Motherfuckers actin like you denyin them Who tryin a nigga, who use buyers I figure your crew tired, my trigger introduces VIOLENCE Loose the sirus, you in hospital, orange juice and vitamins No coke (Chorus) (Verse 3 - Obie Trice) A derelict who inherited hustle My heritage married the street struggle Like a couple of a great unk's ago (yeah) So this blood streams through my nuts Seems like I wasn't in touch When the teacher's ass spoke Nope, naw I was just a preacher in oath Sit on the bleachers and flip coke The only reach you got through my dome Niggaz yaffle so the gat'll be chrome Pull the window raffle, so I scramble with a track and the phones (woo) Fuck a act and a clone, this is actual happening's that's factual back in my home This is rap, but I ain't rappin so you clappin the zone Think we trapped in the act, for the sake of performin (nigga) This is your warnin, run up on the wrong And your tissue is burning a hundred degrees warm (Blaap) O. Treezy's gone, my nigga Buzz bring the track back here for 'em C'mon (Chorus)"

"You can probably tell from the attitude, I got it! Them chick so bark, like a mother fucking florist Playing with me, I suggest you set the game to Lopez I’ve been playing in work, you’re an intern in"

"without a doubt I'm comin' back and if you don't know call me S. I. R. T. double O I like to say these rhymes, I do it all the time I make my own damn beat now all the money is mine I carry big fat"

"(feat. Marsha (Floetry), Q-Tip) Money, cars, clothes, sexy broads, plenty more, go.. get you some Mansion, lots, planes, Phantoms, bitch you better... Go.. get you some Hustlin, jugglin, robbin,"

"(Ali) I'm on my way to my show, uh, shirt Polo Gortex figaro, jeans Hilfiger though Starched up, hit the Amoco Bought a Philly, sparked up Lunatics'll blow the park up Ooh this herb, got me geekin like"