[Intro]
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin' (Ayy, Brandon, man, you do that?)
I just popped some X, bitch, I'm bussin' (Yeah)
[Chorus]
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin'
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin' (Yeah)
I'm so 1600, I'll kill my own cousin (1600)
[Refrain]
Out of my mind, bitch, I'm all about money (Out of my mind)
Bitch, I'm too geeked, I can't feel in my stomach (Bitch, I'm too geeked)
[Verse 1]
Fucked on your bitch, put my dick in her stomach
Dick in her throat 'til that bitch gotta vomit (Eugh)
Front thirty clip to my boys, they gon' drum it
High in the party from start 'til it's done (Woah)
Fuck on your bitch from the back, use my thumb (Woah)
I'm out of breathe, might invest in a lung (How?)
Make her lean back like Fat Joe, eat my son
Pockets real fat, yeah, they look like Big Pun (Woo)
Oh, are you serious? Still sucked my dick on your period (Your period)
These are commas, not no periods
How you so broke but so arrogant? (How?)
Chrome Heart my jeans, no Amiri, bitch
Step on the beat, watch the way that I'm killin' it
Pull up the Lamb' and I'm high, I'm still steerin' it
I pop a—I pop a—I pop a—yeah (Yeah)
Diamonds my neck and these motherfuckers clear
Fuck is a airport? We go to the clear
Jump on the jet and my diamonds, they emeralds
No, they not baguettes, I got a choppa, come straight from Tibet
Talkin' 'bout money, boy, what is the bet? (Money)
Bitch, I'm from Philly but still screamin', "Slatt" (Woah)
I feel bad for the people that, um, slide
Now that I'm rich, your bitch-ass could still rest (Ayy)
I can feel this pill just all in my chest
I can feel this pill just all in my head
I'ma pop this pill until I get old
I'ma pop this pill until go dead (Rockstar)
Money, I swear that it's covered in mold
So much snow on me, you might need a sled
I swear I had to go right in my mode
Money is blue and my team is all red (Yeah, set her)
[Chorus]
Bussin', bussin' (Woo), bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin'
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin' (Yeah)
I'm so 1600, I'll kill my own cousin
[Reprise]
So much money, won't expect if I front it
Nigga, you hate it but your bitch, she love it
Pull up—blrrt, my boy knock you off
Gave him a check, he don't need it at all
[Verse 2]
Shot that boy once, he ain't breathin' at all (Baow)
Pull up the Audi, it's fast, got the NOS
All my boys they be muslim, but my jeans got the cross
When I wear those I gotta say, "Inshallah"
Know the opps mad, I know they miss their dog
I'm back on tour, I'm not even involved
Ooh, that's no kizzy (No kizzy), yeah, don't make me call Stizzy, yeah (Yeah)
We around in the bity like we don't got no opps all in our city
Super strapped up, you can't do me like Biggie
No body shot, gave that boy, um, a wiggy
Beat up her pussy, turn her to a kitty
I paid the high, but we need it for low
I got a plug that's from, um, Mexico
Get on the docks, it came in from the boat
My chain is shinin', I got it from Elliot
No, I did not get this shit, um, from Joe
I said, 1-6 to 30 block stick to the code
Don't trust anybody but SK the bro
I got a SK, a AK Draco, I just made five-hunnid straight from a show
I just made two-hunnid-fifty a feature
I turnt a good girl just straight to a eater
Every song I make, this shit is a heater
I got the sauce, the bread, the cheese
My Italian bitch said that I could make pizza
Told my bitch, I'm the devil, her dad is a preacher
She pull my shirt, she keep rippin' my beater
I put five holes right here in my two-seater, I'm geeked, bitch (Ayy, Brandon, man, you do that? Skrrt)
[Chorus]
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin'
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin' (Yeah)
I'm so 1600, I'll kill my own cousin (1600)
[Refrain]
Out of my mind, bitch, I'm all about money (Out of my mind)
Bitch, I'm too geeked, I can't feel in my stomach (Bitch, I'm too geeked)
[Chorus]
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin'
Bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin', bussin' (Yeah)
[Reprise]
So much money, won't expect if I front it
Nigga, you hate it but your bitch, she love it
Pull up—blrrt, my boy knock you off
Gave him a check, he don't need it at all