Miscellaneous album cover

Noreaga – Head Bussa Lyrics

Hip Hop/Rap

I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa

Yo, N.O.R.E. you can catch me in my favorite car
Drop Lex, 'Lac truck or the lazy yard
Like a pitcher, I throw my hits crazy far
And if you is what you smoke then, hazy y'all
I'm never fed up, I got some lead butt
I keep some chicks in my whips and they always just fuck my head up
I'm like whatever God, ain't a nigga better God
I rock a Neptune's beat like it's a leather God
I don't know about you, but I'm a bed crusha
See I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
You see it's God's favorite, we built of project bricks
Chicks love us anyway, cause we just make hits
You know Remy, I'm good with just water and fist
Thugged out, militant, see we focused
Stand strong in the paint, see me hold my vivid
Or you can catch me in L.A. with a Mexican midget
It go...

I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa

See I'm a Philly nigga, I can't fuck with a duck chick
Automatic whips, you can't fuck with a glut chick
Jose, I'm so relaxed it seems
The first nigga sellin' cracks, through a fax machine
The shit's StarTec, I hold my gun in the range
And I can make planes crash, through a two-way page
Niggas act like, act like, I ain't make mad classics
Like I'm a new artist, the nerve of these rap bastards
But that's aight, cause I'm a still make more
And I can sell bad work, still say that it's raw
I make songs for the poor niggas
The most grimy and raw niggas
The kick-kick-kick in your door niggas
Come on wrestle next, see who neck I break
I send my little man home, have the 'tec out late
See I'm bed crusha, see I'm a bed crusha
And I don't know about you...

I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa

Look, ain't a damn, thing the same
Look, I'm a see ya if ya say my name
We millionaires, we changed the game
The Glock Mac-11 clowns, the bullets for rain
To come down, this a soldier game
Kill for money, the Ron and Caine
Let me see your flag, the color of car
Nigga, put your fingers, show me what you are

See I'm a head bussa, and it ain't hard to tell
That I'm a keep makin' hits, it ain't hard to sell
And them Def Jam niggas put that paper behind us
We left that other label, and that hatin' behind us
Niggas want beef, it ain't hard to find us
We in the 'Lac truck, them niggas in Pathfinders
In the, crime scene like, "Norey Norey"
And people wanna scream it like, "Norey Norey"
Man, I'm outta town my niggas travel too
We in L.A. gettin' sucked off in Malibu
And you can, ask the Jake, they call me "Know Shit"
Cause everytime they question me, I don't know shit
And hold this, yeah nigga just know this
I always drink Henny, hardly know the Cris'
Straight, monster wrist, I keep a ill beat
And niggas hardly like you, ya shit's still weak
It go...

Look, ain't a damn, thing the same
Look, I'm a see ya if ya say my name
We millionaires, we changed the game
The Glock Mac-11 clowns, the bullets for rain
To come down, this a soldier game
Kill for money, the Ron and Caine
Let me see your flag, the color of car
Nigga, put your fingers, show me what you are

I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa
I don't know about you, but I'm a head bussa

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