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letra de talk shit get hit - busta

[intro]
yeah boy
it’s ya man busta
let’s do this f-ckin’ sh-t
let’s go n-gga

[verse 1]
41 tracks you been slackin’
41 tracks ain’t none of them bangin’
you been sitting on your -ss
pants saggin’
voice lagging cause of 20 dollar mic
ride to school on a bike
m-th-f-ckin’ kike n-gga
10 dollar bike n-gga
you poor as f-ck n-gga
i be sittin’ in an impala n-gga
fake -ss cars
fake bars
fake everything, you ain’t nothin’ to me you worthless ch-nk b-tch

[verse 2]
that’s right
yeah, yeah yeah, yeah
it’s ya n-gga busta, busta, busta
i been trappin’ out my mind
they think i’m crazy
i’m trappin’ so hard in the bar, in the car, everywhere
yuh, chino loc a b-tch
riding on my d-ck for attention
little wh0r-, you sound like a 14 year old
you ain’t sh-t, n-gga
you ain’t sl!ck, n-gga
you sound like lil pump if he had a nipple in his mouth
you sound like rich chigga, you sound like -ss

[verse 3]
you so bad i thought i could give you a p-ss
but i don’t give c-nts free p-sses
because you know these gas prices wack
i gotta make this dough
another blow to your temple make you cough and for [?}
you been seein’ carebears
all your f-ckin’ stunts have been there
also why you pleading “n-gga” like it’s the best word in the world
you ain’t black
you ain’t even got a rack
you think i ain’t being serious
you been making fun of me in front of all your little friends
showing off cause busta ain’t done nothing yet
now what, n-gga
you a p-ssy n-gga
you a silly n-gga
yuh

[verse 4]
you a little b-tch, remember that
you ain’t nothing
you ain’t even got any stacks
you ain’t even got gold chains
little chigga wannabe
you’ll never be black
no matter how much you talk with your [?]
i be in the trap, you be in the studio
you bars fake, like your rolex
you probably ain’t ever have s-x
you probably dumb enough to do xanax
and you should, you really need the anti-depressants
lookin’ like tiny turner when she got smacked up
lookin’ like j-pan when it got ransacked
lookin’ like my b-llsack after s-x, flat!
just like your dough, little n-gga
little chigga, wannabe
you a m-th-f-cka
dad be a trucker
livin’ off low income
working cl-ss m-th-f-cker
i be making dough while you living in your parents bas-m-nt
stuntin’ behind a computer screen while my uncle drinkin’ madly
you know me, i’m based
i don’t give a sh-t if you be stuntin’
just know you gonna get f-cked up
yeah, lookin’ like a b-tch, lookin’ like a snitch
you a hitchhiker
hitchhiking off my clout, you ain’t even got clout
you’re poor as f-ck and flex
you can’t flex nothin’ n-gga
i got an lv belt
f-ck, you got nike air force 1’s and a knockoff supreme belt
n-gga please
you make my skin wheeze
you should leave your self hangin’
like sayori, sayonara n-gga
i know this yellow n-gga has more fouls than shaq causin’ free throws
when i come to highline, you better be ready to exchange blows
i’ll f-ck up your nikes and your wack–ss clothes

[verse 5]
you wanna f-ckin’ fight
i’ll f-ckin’ fight
but don’t be blaming me for f-cking up your nose and sh-t
i’ll sack you so hard, your d-ck will fall off and create a cl-t
you f-cking mess with the wrong n-gga
i’m a crazy motherf-cker, don’t mess with me b-tch
you f-ck-up, stop rapping b-tch
i k!lled your career right here
oh wait there wasn’t a career in the first place
this a turtle and rabbit race
there ain’t no challenge
you should just shoot yourself at the shooting range
hang yourself, your worthless
ain’t no one gonna tell you not to do it
i got the noose right here
shiet

- busta

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