M.O.P. Lyrics

Album: First Family 4 Life

Handle UR Bizness Lyrics

Check check check 

Chorus: 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH 

Billy Danze: Handle your business 

Can't get your grip 

M.O.P: Can I get a witness?! 

Lil' Fame: Ghetto people your dreams have now been fulfilled 

Grip your steel 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH 

Billy Danze: Handle your business 

Can't get your grip 

M.O.P: Can I get a witness?! 

Lil' Fame: Ghetto people your dreams have now been fulfilled 

Back out your steel 

Rah*echoes* 

Verse one: Lil' Fame 

What the rawdog feelin? 

An author like, Terry McMillan 

The cat that, maniac 

My fam dark as death in less than a minute 

(The world stop spinnin) 

The Rapid FIRING SQUAD 

Keep on mix fire and (hard to kill) 

Loud wires and bombs, firing arms 

Look, we all for it 

Its the dutch burning herbalice 

Gallon drinkin alcoholics 

Walk through your toughest pack of goons with my chain out 

Kept it real ever since the first jam came out 

FIRST FAMILY turned this whole rap game out 

Sheisty individuals, tryin to wipe my name out 

But they don't fuck around cause they know I back that thing out 

And try to mark em off when the gun shots ring out 

And in the myst of black, kid I'ma try to wipe they name out 

And keep on dubbin till I break a fucking spring out 

Chorus 

Verse two: Billy Danze 

You motherfuckas better raise up (they already did) 

WHO THAT? The '87 stick up kids (we're back!) 

I'm hopin that your focused on the side 

Cause frontin on me and my, mad niggaz die 

Is this hiphop? Hell no, this is war 

I've been trying to tell you that since ? rocked some hardcore 

You don't listen. See, gee 

I'm on a mission. Look, be 

They gonna find your ass missing 

Ever since me and Fame came, we maintained 

A strange, but a strong game 

(That can't change!) 

The real ghetto bad shit for blastin, subtractin 

Those that ain't matchin my fashion I'm mashin 

(Retality's real) Fatality's ill 

When your stash in my path then your stash is a raw deal 

(Clap, clap) Get your gat 

(Buckabuckabubububububububuckabucka) blow, blow, get the fuck back 

Chorus 

Verse Three: 

Lil' Fame: FACE MINE Cause I'm here 

Dog its' all clear 

Rap jewels put it on my baseline from a snare 

Then the wanna doubt The Kid 

Who analyze this whole fucking shit? 

Trying to make somethin out of it 

Explode quicker than landmines 

M.O.P. tapes make earthquakes and cause landslides 

Bump this in your Lex coupe 

Or your Lex hoop 

Danze, finish em, twenty-one gun salute 

(The Crew) 

Billy Danze: How many niggas runnin with me? *pause* (this few) 

A hundred niggaz gunnin with me *pause* (to shoot) 

Firing Squad, draw blood on the enemy 

At point-blank range, deliverin the penalty 

AIN'T NOTHING BUT THE THUGS 

Slangin out hollow slugs 

(Nigga), anti-love keepin it real (Thug, let em slide today) 

I'm known best for leavin em stretchin like Doc Holliday 

Salute! *main beat stops, baseline continues* 

*beat comes back in*