Lyrics:
a friend i guess he Biz markie
Gasoline spilled over ignited me with a sparking
So 300 runnin shit like a spartan
Having visions of Dumbledore leaving me
sounds) a one, two
Rest in peace to Biz Markie, honor those that spark me
I spit verses like girls get purses
Some rappers get by and some get purchased
My
name Biz
Renounce your faith kids
Shut your face and push your ounce away bitch
My mouth can taste sick
Naked young bitch suck the fungus
Off my hung
Get on your Markie
Ya really need to mind ya Biz
Let me borrow some fans since you actin cool
Snatch ya jewels won't give em back to you
At the booth I
Let us blow up spots, CD stores, and move merch
Soon a surge would see the Juice Crew burst
On the art scene, the gang was Biz Markie and Kane
G Rap
tongue kissin her
She be suckin dick
Niggas markie I can't have these
Niggas in my biz
In Kentucky still fuck around n do the Shiz
yeah, I am (uh)
Catch them vibes like vapes, Biz Markie and them (what?)
Chi-Ali and them (what?), Kool G Rap, Rakim (huh?)
We boogie for that juice,
James
To hell with the bitches and the so-called fame (uh-huh)
Strictly biz to hard (kid yeah) as I climb charts
Bustin ass daily as I compose like
Whodini, launchin' rockets in the 90s!
Now I remember in the days of way back
With just a 4 track
With no SP-12 to make tracks
Wearing leather
James
To hell with the bitches and the so-called fame (uh-huh)
Strictly biz to hard (kid yeah) as I climb charts
Bustin ass daily as I compose like
and its beautiful
Sweet lies defeat lives
Sour Tears are cried, as the fucking years go by
Let the beat energize
In the streets we scream the songs to make
Then the systems would stop and quit
But the system's a fallacy
Reality's duality, My theory of opposites
Biz Markie clowned around
Was really in charge
yourself
(Verse 1)
I'll slash ya grill, don't start me
You'll be the only entertainer with less groupies than Biz Markie
I'm never dull, Chino
yourself
I'll slash ya grill, don't start me
You'll be the only entertainer with less groupies than Biz Markie
I'm never dull, Chino the pretty thug,
hii time boy, na burn hizi bridge boy
Fam usiwai play urself over some champ change
Ku jaribu reach deep in my pockets with your short hands
Biz ilikua
gifted with a twisted brain
(Get it)
Get it good
Misfit of the day
Sickest in ya hood
Wicked with a wood
Hanging out my mouth
Make sure you listen
And people would crowd us
On staircases with rah and sha the ganja would spark me
I was fiending to battle dougie fresh, buff and biz markie
Was always
and Jay-z
Rakim and eric B
Slim shady
Biz markie
And weezy
Make this shit look easy
Still not a clone, im gonna be known
As a goat, one who’ll uphold the soul
freedom rap music
Independent hustler blow like a missile
Quickbooks make sure my accounting official
Turbotax keep the IRS off my assets
Track
wanna cheer in this
Make an ex-bitch wanna cheer in this
Make a mouth move ventriloquist
I don't give a fuck what you feeling kid
I don't give a fuck what
ever stop shakin they butts
So I came out with "make the music with your mouth biz"
An introduction to me, and told it like it is
Some said it was
dance soon
Then I go impress myself with other kinds of damn tunes
Diss my friends with your mouth, Imma man the harpoons
Oh, shit, you know how it is
complicated
But only 'cause you make it that way
You're bothered by the truth
I can’t win for losing
Every word I say
You turn into exaggeration
You’re
on themselves, man, they too specific
You either stupid or the tunes you did is truly fiction
They writin' movie scripts to make it in the music business
You claim
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