What Up

(scratched: "It's the new!")
 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, niggas. 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, niggas 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 niggas 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)
 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 niggas 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
 Niggas be runnin they trap, throw 'em over the cliff
 Thinkin and drinkin the Guinness, busy holdin the spliff
 Flippin and shittin on niggas '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)