Artist: Tech N9ne f/ Big Scoob, Young Devi D Album: The Storm Song: Buss Serves Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Tech N9ne] Started with the blow and went to flows Listen to me tell my gutter story and it goes When I was 19 I went to go live with my auntie and noticed she had nice things The furniture and, all of her clothes quite clean To never be workin a 9-to-5 she ran a ice cream, team She put me on, am I wit it? Si-mon Stay remarkably grown, that's why my pockets be long Ducked some Feds, dumped packs and then got custom threads From servin boofas in K.C. we say "Let's buss some heads, nigga" In French Village I went 'til it got the rent billing Got so heavy I no longer benched skrilla was a cinch, still I had to Vince Neil it Yell in a microphone and write the songs they like, it's on I let go they life worth of pipe is blown to flowin ignite my home I used to, buss serves, now I, buss words Either way slangin or sangin, whatever life I'ma just splurge We had the spot though until it really got hot so Escape I did like El Chapo, but Nueve still get faded vato [Chorus: Young Devi D] + (Tech N9ne) Yeah yeah, I pull up, pull up, yea, bussin serves I pull up, pull up, yea, bussin serves Young nigga chasin that bag, I pull up bussin serves Young nigga pull up, pull up, yea, bussin serves (Commas - either way I'ma be stackin it) (On my mama - makin my milli from rappin it or) bussin serves! (Commas - either way I'ma be stackin it) (On my mama - makin my milli from rappin it or) bussin serves! [Big Scoob] On my mama nigga pull up, I'm bussin serves But you won't find me nickel-and-diming, man I'm off the curb Prolly find me somewhere rhymin, man this flow's absurd Or maybe find me on my grimy where the pot is stirred Either way I'm 'bout my pay, I'm tryna stack up my dollars Whippin the chowder, stompin the powder, dumpin it louder, soldier for louder Connected to a vato, jefe, head honcho El Chapo with the hot flows, still logged in with the block though Anything to make the knot grow, push a nigga, push it all bro Pussy pills to that Pablo, in dark or night nigga I glow Old nigga with the bag bro, silly nigga with the mag though Be careful what you pussies ask fo', I'm airin out one of you assholes Real shit but the paper quit when the violence hit, nigga beep it bool Shit bricks and quick licks turned meal ticks, nigga beep it bool Out here hungry chasin food, all in, refuse to lose Bussin serves or bussin words, ask about me, I'm that dude [Chorus] [Young Devi D] Go; I got my mind on my money, money on my mind It's just somethin 'bout them hundreds, when you thumbin through them signs I quit fuckin with them niggaz, cause they ain't wan' shine And that's all I'm tryna do, it's why I grit, it's why I grind I pull up bussin serves nigga all at the trailer parks I talk money fluent, they ain't teach it in language arts And that nigga's street smart, reflex razor sharp Don't fall in love with me baby, I'm just gon' break your heart Smash through the city, like the fuckin "Transporter" I got film of your bitch, on my camcorder Had to show it to my homies, this right here my life mayne Hit a lick for 30, lose 20 in a dice game Fuck it man it's nothin, I swear to God it's nothin I tried down that sucka but I paralyzed his cousin Oops fuck it, oops fuck it, that come with the pop-off You my son's son lil' nigga, call me papa [Chorus]