Big Pun - Big Business lyrics
[Big Pun - Big Business lyrics]
I mean what, you goin' crazy over this?
I mean, really it look like
Cracked off pieces of soap (Mark Henry)
Yeah, you's a pussy boy
You heard that pussy boy?
Ya daddy should have never nutted
In that hoe's pussy, boy
But since you on this earth
It's time to take you off it
This what you want, huh nigga
That hardcore New York shit
That black cement, 3 Jordan shit
True religion - jeans
Polo tee and a Portland fit
No defense when I grip the handle, boy
I got a deadly shot, no Brandon Roy
My niggas in Detroit call me Megatron
Back in '88, we moved mega tons
Now I push the 'Rari down 8th Ave
Bitch face on my lap, call it face math
The Colombians and the Dominicans have
Shown us the way the shit is large
But we gon' do it differently
Gone are the days of sellin'
On a street corner you change the product
You change the marketin' strategy
Yeah, uhh the streets lookin' like Thriller
Minus the chick and red
Jacket with the zippers
Just zombies, psychos and killers
Quick to choke you out, ya, Reggie Miller
It's a drought, we need a hurricane
Boat movin' slow, niggas screamin' "hurry
'caine" 3 pistols on me just in
Case you tryin' to bang
I got that 9-9-9 plan like Herman Cain
Yeah, we occupyin' raw street
Good morning, no sugar in the coffee
Just cocaine, Medina and some morphine
One whiff of the pure, make ya jaw lean
I'm not guilty you're the one who's guilty
The lawmakers, the politicians
All you who lobby against makin' drugs legal
Just like you did with
Alcohol durin' the prohibition
You're the one who's guilty
Ain't no Uzis made in Harlem i mean
Not one of us in here owns a poppy field
This thing is bigger than Nino Brown
This is big business
This is the American way
I mean, really it look like
Cracked off pieces of soap (Mark Henry)
Yeah, you's a pussy boy
You heard that pussy boy?
Ya daddy should have never nutted
In that hoe's pussy, boy
But since you on this earth
It's time to take you off it
This what you want, huh nigga
That hardcore New York shit
That black cement, 3 Jordan shit
True religion - jeans
Polo tee and a Portland fit
No defense when I grip the handle, boy
I got a deadly shot, no Brandon Roy
My niggas in Detroit call me Megatron
Back in '88, we moved mega tons
Now I push the 'Rari down 8th Ave
Bitch face on my lap, call it face math
The Colombians and the Dominicans have
Shown us the way the shit is large
But we gon' do it differently
Gone are the days of sellin'
On a street corner you change the product
You change the marketin' strategy
Yeah, uhh the streets lookin' like Thriller
Minus the chick and red
Jacket with the zippers
Just zombies, psychos and killers
Quick to choke you out, ya, Reggie Miller
It's a drought, we need a hurricane
Boat movin' slow, niggas screamin' "hurry
'caine" 3 pistols on me just in
Case you tryin' to bang
I got that 9-9-9 plan like Herman Cain
Yeah, we occupyin' raw street
Good morning, no sugar in the coffee
Just cocaine, Medina and some morphine
One whiff of the pure, make ya jaw lean
I'm not guilty you're the one who's guilty
The lawmakers, the politicians
All you who lobby against makin' drugs legal
Just like you did with
Alcohol durin' the prohibition
You're the one who's guilty
Ain't no Uzis made in Harlem i mean
Not one of us in here owns a poppy field
This thing is bigger than Nino Brown
This is big business
This is the American way