Oh No - Busta Rhymes

Bitch, what’s the problem

Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em

I got 'em

Bitch, what’s the problem

Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em

Need I remind 'em, they must’ve forgotten

Fuck this bitch up from the top to the bottom

Kill 'em all 'til they decaying, they rotting

Whip shit I can’t pronounce, just know it’s foreign

Spaceship outside and the fiber is carbon

I’m making 'em sick again, bitch get here, vomit

Fuck

Bitch, what’s the problem

Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em

Me taking Ls while talking so uncommon

Shit hide their shit before my niggas rob 'em

You better off dead or probably playing possum

And stay on the ground 'cause there’s no better option

Then fuck up this bitch with another concoction

Clear up the block with a blare from a shotgun

Bitch, what’s the problem

Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em

Clown niggas from miles away, we still spot 'em

Man, fuck around and end up on a milk carton

Nigga wondering who shot him

Grave located, don’t post your nigga garden

Pop niggas up, now watch my way I rock 'em

I chop a brick up now watch how they gon' cop 'em

I mop the clique up on top of how I flop them

Get got in your gut no matter how I drop 'em

Plot against us now watch how we just stop 'em

What we s’posed to do?

Nigga from the bottom

Plant the money tree and get the money when it blossom

How the fuck is they gon' stop him

Clout thirsty niggas on the gram, we block 'em

Pull up and watch the way the bitches flockin'

Flocka!

Waka Flocka!

Most you niggas really ca-ca (And)

Get the passing, meet (And)

Bitch you know I keep the choppa (And)

Every single time I pop 'em (And)

Pop 'em make the ratchet pop-pop

Pop-pop-pop-pop

I make that ratchet pop-pop

Think you niggas can fuck with my clique I say «Oh no-no»

How could be better, nigga could be never heard of, no

Fuck the building up, promoters screaming out «Oh no-no»

Until they shut us down, they got every hood fiending like «Oh no»

Bitch, what’s the problem

Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em (Watch how I)

Wack 'em and I sock 'em

Outer space with it how I Mr. Spock 'em

And cop me a planet, fuck it up like Saturn

Batmobile whipping, pulling up to Gotham

sipping, counting blood with Pac-Man

Gotta chill, bitches know I beg your pardon

Bitch, what’s the problem

How’d you fuck it up my nigga, I got 'em

Y’all niggas know that what we do is awesome

You better off leaving, purchase you a coffin

You gon' thank me in the morning

You know that I keep shooting, the gun barrel scorching

Lay you to rest and spin the Wheel of Fortune

Do shit that keep all of you niggas talking

Bitch, what’s the problem

Fuck you talking 'bout my nigga, I got 'em

Fuck shit up here and all the way to Scotland

And broke him up with the, we gon' pop him

And talk my shit clear, well let me speaker knock him

Motherfucker got him flockin'

I talk to the streets to be my final calling

Walk and go sleep, that be your final warning

Fl-Fl-Fl-Fl-Flocka!

Wacka Flocka!

Most you niggas really ca-ca (And)

Get the passing, meet (And)

Bitch you know I keep the choppa (And)

Every single time I pop 'em (And)

Pop 'em make the ratchet pop-pop

Pop-pop-pop-pop

I make that ratchet pop-pop

Think you niggas can fuck with my clique I say «Oh no-no»

How could be better, nigga could be never heard of, no

Fuck the building up, promoters screaming out «Oh no-no»

Until they shut us down, they got every hood fiending like «Oh no-no»