MC Lyte, Missy Elliott - In My Business lyrics
MC Lyte [Lana Michele Moorer] Queens, New York City, U.S. 🇺🇸
[MC Lyte, Missy Elliott - In My Business lyrics]
Hahaha, introducing MC Lyte
I think I need a sound check
Hit me with a sound check
Yea, now what about that dope stuff
Alright now, gimme an 8-0 (8-0, 8-0, 8-0)
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh yo, 1-2
Uh, MC Lyte (yea) you don't know (yea)
Ficky ficky, oh you don't know
On the regular they guessin' how
The Lyte get down nevermind that
Nigga you better watch your mouth
Keep snoopin' and you bound to hit a brick
Get out the crack of my ass
All up in my shiznit
To you nosey Nikki's and you Peepin' Tom's
So, you know I'm about to
Drop the Brooklyn Bomb
7 and 7 is 14, 1 and 4 is 5
But none of that matters if
Your ass ain't alive
You could care less about the records I sell
You just wanna know I tried but I fell
But even on your best day and on my worst
I'll still be first
Without the need to rehearse
Why you up in my business?
Find somethin' better to do
Why you talkin' about me?
I ain't say shit 'bout you
Forgive me for my attitude
But I got something to say
Yall better not fuck with me
Cuz I had a bad day
Yall must really think I'm the
Host of the freakshow
Got me taggin' piranhas I don't even know
Got me swimmin' in waters
Gettin' caught in fishnet
Got me hooked up wit' folks
I ain't never even met
Now yall so busy tryin' to market this
I guess yo stupid ass forgot who started this
But I'm about to ransack you make your memory
Come back to you
Let all my true niggas jack you
Talkin' bou the Lyte like you
Gettin' paid for it
Better wish for your own and
Get out my business
Besides I'm too quick and pigeons oughta know
By the time you get the info
It was two years ago
Aside from that I'm too swift to catch
Don't pay to chase the joint
You can't light the match
And everybody knows I'm too quick
To flip the latch
It ain't many that can even
Say they been attached
I heard a lotta yall runnin' runnin' 'round
Ain't none of yall this supa dupa fly
Supa Dupa as I fly, fly across the sky
Cut you like pie me and, me and MC Lyte
Cuz you wack
Straight from the jump, yea you wack
Better get back
I can't I can't fuck wit' that
I ain't sayin' jack
I'mma just smack you 'cross your face so
Deep that you'll never talk back
Why you up in my business
Find something better to do
Why you talkin' 'bout me
I ain't said shit about you (uh)
Forgive me for my attitude
But I got something to say
Yall better not fuck with me
Cuz I had a bad day ficky-ficky check me out
Uh uh, uh
I think I need a sound check
Hit me with a sound check
Yea, now what about that dope stuff
Alright now, gimme an 8-0 (8-0, 8-0, 8-0)
Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh yo, 1-2
Uh, MC Lyte (yea) you don't know (yea)
Ficky ficky, oh you don't know
On the regular they guessin' how
The Lyte get down nevermind that
Nigga you better watch your mouth
Keep snoopin' and you bound to hit a brick
Get out the crack of my ass
All up in my shiznit
To you nosey Nikki's and you Peepin' Tom's
So, you know I'm about to
Drop the Brooklyn Bomb
7 and 7 is 14, 1 and 4 is 5
But none of that matters if
Your ass ain't alive
You could care less about the records I sell
You just wanna know I tried but I fell
But even on your best day and on my worst
I'll still be first
Without the need to rehearse
Why you up in my business?
Find somethin' better to do
Why you talkin' about me?
I ain't say shit 'bout you
Forgive me for my attitude
But I got something to say
Yall better not fuck with me
Cuz I had a bad day
Yall must really think I'm the
Host of the freakshow
Got me taggin' piranhas I don't even know
Got me swimmin' in waters
Gettin' caught in fishnet
Got me hooked up wit' folks
I ain't never even met
Now yall so busy tryin' to market this
I guess yo stupid ass forgot who started this
But I'm about to ransack you make your memory
Come back to you
Let all my true niggas jack you
Talkin' bou the Lyte like you
Gettin' paid for it
Better wish for your own and
Get out my business
Besides I'm too quick and pigeons oughta know
By the time you get the info
It was two years ago
Aside from that I'm too swift to catch
Don't pay to chase the joint
You can't light the match
And everybody knows I'm too quick
To flip the latch
It ain't many that can even
Say they been attached
I heard a lotta yall runnin' runnin' 'round
Ain't none of yall this supa dupa fly
Supa Dupa as I fly, fly across the sky
Cut you like pie me and, me and MC Lyte
Cuz you wack
Straight from the jump, yea you wack
Better get back
I can't I can't fuck wit' that
I ain't sayin' jack
I'mma just smack you 'cross your face so
Deep that you'll never talk back
Why you up in my business
Find something better to do
Why you talkin' 'bout me
I ain't said shit about you (uh)
Forgive me for my attitude
But I got something to say
Yall better not fuck with me
Cuz I had a bad day ficky-ficky check me out
Uh uh, uh