De La Soul - The Bizness (feat. Common) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• De La Soul
• The Bizness (feat. Common)

Intro
And and bass up the track a little bit
Cuz I I'm here I wanna hear that boom bish boom, knowhatI'msayin?
Yeah yeah you know the bizness
Common Sense, soul with the De La
Get all them play-ahs
We the rhyme sayers
Huh, and that's the bizness, hah
Gonna do it like this
Gettin it that
Like the Chicago streets

[Verse 1: Dove]
I speak divine of God theories, no need to be high
Always exhale the facts cause I don't inhale lye/lie
Play the greater man's game, to bounce off my losses
So I can earn the acres (uhh) the houses (yeah) the horses (huh)
Of course it's much greater than your Benz or your Lex
The engine to my comprehension is just too complex
Much too complex, EFX/effects be live like Das
Making moves down South, to avoid the chaos
And never, flaunt the coin cuz dime-getters be gazin
They call me Luther Van, they say my style is so Amazin
I'm fazin those who're supposed to have the last laughter
Cuz even when I'm gone I'm reappearin in the after
I haveta, send respects to real money makers
Do not connect us with those champagne sippin money fakers
Taste the quarter pound with spice from Chi-town
Now what that prove? you're so full you can't even move

[Hook]
Cause I'm the D-to-the-O, the-V-to-the-E
And can't another brother cook these delicacies

Well I'm the P-L-U, the G-to-the-One
Walk around the planet earth making money having fun

And I'm the C-to-the-O, double-M-O-N
I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win
I'm the C-to-the-O, double-M-O-N
I sit and think with a drink...

[Verse 2: Common]
Do you wanna be a MC? Or do you wanna serve
Do you wanna be dope? Or do you wanna deal it
Fabricated acryllic, I feel it, I'm the style molester
I do a show get Extra P's like the Large Professor
In fact I get more hoes than Tessa, peep game like a
Refa-ree in soul control of my
Desti-ny, in the best of, three out of five
Whip ANYBODY ass at NBA Live, rappers
Take a dive like Greg Louganis with his bitch-ass
Rather be in Bebe's alley, than at the click with gators
Not a hater of the players, I'm more like a coach, or an owner
I Used To Love H.E.R., but now I bone her (ahuh-hah!)
At one point in rhyme I thought I lost my erection
But then I got it back with the Resurrection, blessings
Upon rhymes old man who called him traitor
Big Com Stradamus niggas styles I predict

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Pos]
I'm the most from the coast of the Eastern flav'
Droppin more knowledge than litter, on the New York pave'
It's me, Wonder Why, in the place to be
Certified, as superior, MC
While others explore to make it hardcore
I make it hard for, wack MC's to even step inside the door
Cause these kids is rhyming, sometiming
And when we get to racing on the mic, they line up to see
The lyrical killing, with stained egos on the ceiling
My rhymes escalates like black death rates
Over musical plates, being played as the rule
Kids thinking stepping to the Soul, you're labelled fools
Who claims to drop jewels but for now you do the catching
I don't worry on what crew you run, or what section of earth
You reside, you're not even a MAN
So I don't deem it MANdatory taking your pride
But I will, cause my man said Soulful Delight
You cried "Keepin it real", yet you should try keepin it right
That's understanding microphone mathematics
Which leads to currency and temporary world status
And when one shows he posed threat to this one
This one will make that one into none
Simple equation, zero, you shouldn't play hero
If you can't stand Strong like the Island I'm from

[Hook]

[Outro: Common]

Ahh that's how, that's how I'm supposed to do my thing huh
Like triple it, alright
That's how we do it, all the way f

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