A Trip Out Of Town

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    • Intro 1
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    Verse 1
    Am
    E

    [Busta Rhymes]
    Am

    Yo, it all began like, bust it

    My nigga City bout to bounce on a trip

    We met some niggas with a lot

    of things they want em to flip

    I told my nigga get the dough

    and keep the blau on your hip
    E

    Travel safe, you know that I'ma

    hold it down on the strip
    Am

    Good looking, word to mother

    son I give you my wit

    But when I get back,
    E

    I'ma bounce straight to your crib
    Am

    On the strength,

    son slid until you to the Greyhound
    E
    Am

    Wit a burner in the knapsack,

    headed straight outta town

    Now, three days pass I'm still

    on the strip

    Doing hand to hand with twelve collapsible,

    stashable clips

    With little magnets on the side of the clips
    E

    we planted like a project

    When police come we stick the clips
    Am

    in any metal object

    Throwing a nigga on the walls

    and try to search me down

    I laugh knowin that my
    E

    stash'll never be found
    Am

    Well any way, on the third day,
    E

    son came straight to the strip

    Wit a new floss and shiny

    shoes on the whip
    Am

    My nigga hit me with the latest,

    greatest

    He told me get inside the whip so I can know

    just what the up to date is

    He said he fuckin wit some Guyanese niggas

    how ill them niggas is
    E

    What kind of dough they get,
    Am

    and how they handle they biz

    How they connect with Jamaican

    niggas who speak American

    And how they chains swung
    E

    a medallion iced out pelicans
    Am

    And how they stay

    wit four pounders
    E

    And speak American to try to blend in
    Am

    Like they ain't obvious out of towners

    Okay, I've never heard of workers

    getting five G's pay

    For trips that last for only 2- 3 day

    How these Guyanese niggas be eating
    E

    pasta but they love zucchini

    Rocking valor tennis suits
    Am

    by Sergio Tecchini

    Them type of cats that call you

    because you can't call 'em
    E

    Rocking baseball fitters with wild
    Am

    animal skins on 'em

    How they rock silks and tailor made pants
    E

    And get a matching bally shoe for the silk
    Am

    to step in the dance

    Washrags hangin from every

    one of our back pockets

    From every fine wine to champagne

    them niggas'll straight cop it

    And set up shops in them neighborhoods

    that was residential
    E
    Am

    Rock laced whips while the

    workers'll floss the latest rentals

    How they fuck with arrogant

    bitches who act pussy

    And love to hustle wit niggas
    E
    Am

    and stash coke up in they pussy

    After all of that I wanted ones
    E

    The way my nigga was talking so nex
    Am

    t trip I went to bounce with son

    So now we out of town

    with Guyanese cats

    Up in they gates bubbling

    packages and laying with gats

    Shit was slow until the main

    fiend was offed
    E

    Just like a thief in the night

    And spread the word that we was back
    Am

    with the white
    Verse 2

    [Intermission]

    "Hey yo why don't you tell that

    crackhead to close the fuckin door
    E

    And shut the fuck up"

    "Yeah man and clean the motherfucking
    Am

    spot up, smell like"
    E

    "Break the fucking breakdown in the working city,

    yo go get the plates
    Am

    And the gym star"

    "Yo light that up,

    lemme hit that, gimme a light, yeah man cut that"

    "Fuck this shit"
    Verse 3
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    [Busta Rhymes]

    Yeah, see how we blowing pa

    The lookout niggas holding fort

    like they was watchtowers
    E

    Bugging on how we went through,
    Am

    a half a brick every couple of hours

    So on and so on, shit

    is good and we eating

    First nigga to short a package will catch
    E
    Am

    the most brutal beating

    The whole town, see we now own it
    E

    Carrying on and blemishing all in the hearts
    Am

    of the best moments

    We stacking cheddar now

    and shit is all clear

    And we was growing as working

    niggas wit aspiring ideas

    We love to floss and the feeling

    of pushing chrome shit
    E

    But in the grand scheme these
    Am

    niggas'll love to have they own shit

    Now these niggas was really

    ready to swell up

    We decided to separate from them
    E

    niggas and make our shit develop
    Am

    Off in to the wilderness
    E

    of the wicked Husid

    We set up shops and
    Am

    watched the games be gin

    So now we balling like a motherfucker,

    money was sick

    Gas on the cheddar and

    these bitches ridin the dick

    Fucking everything from the local McDonald's
    E

    bitches with the biggest ass

    To attorney bitches that'll
    Am

    beat a charge fast

    We used to taking niggas' custies and leave

    they set up on tilt

    And watch 'em angrily scheme
    E

    on the shit that we built
    Am

    Ain't it funny how shit transpire in fact
    E

    Not too long after our ride we took the winner's stash,
    Am

    house was at

    Some niggas tried to run a jook with

    things in they palm

    Not a problem so immediately

    reach for the john

    Right away the gun buist!

    straight lifted a nigga
    E

    How we moved his organs with
    Am

    kickback, shifted a nigga

    Wild shots fire,

    everybody scatter like rats

    Leavingg nothing but gunpowder and
    E

    a trail of smoke in these gats
    Am

    Now we got this fagot nigga blood

    on our hands
    E

    But fuck it, determined to fulfill
    Am

    the best of these plans

    Shit was hot but we was nowhere

    near ready to fall

    My son said he shot,

    but he wasn't bleeding at all

    Word, I started bugging when

    my nigga said he feel cold
    E

    Then I looked up on the right side
    Am

    of his shirt and found a little hole

    So as we continue to radically

    blaze the fifth

    Flame the iron, not giving a fuck,
    E

    y'all niggas want to rip?
    Am

    Well we deaded three out of

    the four niggas who tried to jook
    E

    One nigga slid and think
    Am

    he got off the hook

    Now let me find out one out of them

    three niggas we bodied

    Was one of them Guyanese niggas

    who buy drinks up for the party

    He was the nigga to flood

    the table with champagnes
    E
    Am

    Stupid motherfucker tried to front,

    we had to leak his brain

    Suddenly my nigga fell to the floor

    And said his legs feel like them
    E

    shits ain't got no feelings no more
    Am

    More the actin up the more

    the shit I felt in my gut
    E

    The shit was all over as soon
    Verse 4

    as the director said CUT!
    Am

    That's a wrap, good acting motherfuckers,

    good acting

    That's the shit I'm talking about

    Y'all ready to watch the playback?

    Fuck around, that shit'll be a box

    office smash motherfuckers

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