Head Bussa

Head bussa . . .

Head bussa . . .

Head bussa . . .

Head bussa . . .

(4x)

I don't know 'bout you, but I'm a head bussa (head bussa)

Hey yo . . .

Yo, N-O-R, you can catch me in my favorite car (car)

Drop Lex, black truck, Gordo the "Lazy R"

I'm like a pitcher, I throw my hits crazy far

And if you is what you smoke then - hey y'all

I'm never faired up (faired up) I got some lead what (lead what)

And keeps some chicks in my whips and they always just fuck my head up

I'm like whatever God, ain't a nigga better guard?

I rock a Neptunes beat like it's a leather garm

Know about you, but I'm a bed crusher

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

You see it's God Favorite, he built the project bricks

Chicks love us anyway, cause we just make hits

No Re-my, I'm good with just water and fish

Thugged out Militainment see we focused - bitch

Stand strong in the pain, see me hold my pivot

Or you can catch me in LA, with a Mexican midget

Yo, yo . . .

See I'm a Philly nigga, I can't fuck wit a duck chick

Automatic whips, can't fuck wit a slut chick

Jo-se (Jose) I'm so relaxed it seems

The first nigga sellin' cracks through a fax machine

Shit Star Tek (Star Tek) I hold my gun in the raids

And I can make planes crash through a two-way page

Niggas stack like, act like I ain't made mad classics

Like I'm a new artist, demerit these rat bastards

But that's aight cause I'm a still make more

And I could sell bad work, still say that it's raw

I make songs for the poor niggas

The most "Grimey" and raw niggas, the ki-ki-kickin' your door niggas

Go arm wrestle next, see whose neck I break

I send my little man home (dude go home man) have to check out late

She a bed crusher, see I'm a bad person

Duh . . .

Ain't a damn - thing the same

Look, I'm a see if ya sayin' my name (N-O-R)

Millionaires, that change the game

That got 9/11 clouds (clouds) and bullets that grain

Don't calm down (down) this is soldier game (fa' sho nigga)

Kill for money, the raw and the caine

Let me, see you flag, the color of car nigga

Fix your fingers, show me what you are

See I'm a head bussa (bussa) 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 the hatin' behind us

Niggas want beef, it ain't hard to find us

We in the 'Lac Truck, them niggas in Path-Finders and-uh

The crime scene like N.O.R.E.! , N.O.R.E.!

People wanna scream they like N.O.R.E.! , N.O.R.E.!

Man, I'm outta' town my niggas travel, too

We in LA getting' sucked off in Malibu

A new-car, ask the Jake, they call me "know shit"

Cause everytime they question me, I don't know shit

And hold this, yea 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, your shit still weak

[Chorus 8x]