Bully Foot (feat. Busta Rhymes) - Tha Liks: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Bully Foot (feat. Busta Rhymes)

1,112

Hip-Hop/Rap

Bully Foot (feat. Busta Rhymes) was released on May 25, 2001 by LOUD/Columbia as a part of the album X.O. Experience

Song Details

AlbumX.O. Experience

Release DateMay 25, 2001

LabelLOUD/Columbia

LanguageEnglish

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM86

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS

Tash

Performer

Tha Liks

Performer

Busta Rhymes

Performer

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

T. Smith

Composer

J. Robinson

Composer

Rex Smith

Composer

G. Spivey

Composer

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

Tha Liks

Recording Engineer

DJ Scratch

Producer

Doug Wilson

Mixing Engineer

Brian Stanley

Recording Engineer

Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, my name is, Bust-Down-Some'n

Mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm

And I am alongside, Alkaholiks-an'-Some'n

Mmhmm-mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm

Shit feel good, ****, what the fuck y'all want?

Mhmmm-mmm..

Let me feel on some bitches, with this bully foot rap

Now, every-time-I-give-y'all-shit-that

Blow up the spot, fuck what you got

And bless and execute strategical plots

That's to Extinction Level Event these wack **** offa this block

Me and Tha Alkaholiks havin' a drink, watchin' y'all **** get sick

Holdin' ya stomachs 'til you earl in the sink

The type of dude I never put in my clicks, because you funny

And you be sittin down with your legs crossed like a bitch

I be the foul mouth quick to toast y'all, so-called

**** who like to boast, we let your bodies float along the coast, y'all

This very given moment, opponent **** like you

Ain't allowed up in our circle 'cause we DON'T condone it

We love to microphone it, perhaps

What we gon' do instead is give y'all gutter beats and raw SEWAGE raps

And for the last thing that I'ma make clear

That when we present, watch your step when you be COMIN' round here

Every-time-we-give-y'all-shit-that

Blow up the spot (Fuck what you got, we got)

Shit for the East and the South and the West Coast

We blazin' hot (Controllin' the block, you better)

Watch-yo'-head-while-we-bust-somethin'

To make ya duck (Said, get down, ****, what?) You know

We-got-shit-that-make-y'all-wild-out

To bounce in the truck (Aiyyo, get with the funk, y'know)

This world's tryin to make me crack, but it still ain't broke me

I fall down and just rebound like Charles Oakley

Hoes be like, "All he wanna do is poke me"

Bitch, what you think I wanna do – the Hokey Pokey?

Her boyfriend Smokey said he was gonna smoke me

Her daddy crazy loc, he tried to beat me and choke me

And she still want me, keep blowin up my Noki'

Tryin to provoke me to fall for okey-dokey

Don't quote me, boy, 'cause I ain't said shit

I'm just spittin' Likwit in the middle of the pit

Turn it up a bit, burn it up and hit the bomb

I'm iller than Saddam takin' Carrie's mom to the prom

Cool and calm, McEnroe, Likwid don

Bust rounds with Busta Rhymes, then I roll up – one

You got ice, I got ice, but who nice on these mics?

{*scratched*} "You motherfucker!"

Every-time-we-give-y'all-shit-that

Blow up the spot (Fuck what you got, we got)

Shit for the East and the South and the West Coast

We blazin' hot (Controllin' the block, you better)

Watch-yo'-head-while-we-bust-somethin'

To make ya duck (Said, get down, ****, what?) You know

We-got-shit-that-make-y'all-wild-out

To bounce in the truck (Aiyyo, get with the funk, y'know)

We out for justice, so bust this, it's Busta and the Alkies

**** wanna know the secret, but they just can't get it out me

So they talk that shit about me, but to me that's never not

They pop that shit across the room, while I down another shot

I smoke a hefty bag of doja, black out, and lose composure

Close my eyes and throw a bottle (I'm fuckin' up) – this party over

I still got that flare, so just stare from over there

'Cause I'm so accurate with guns, I put parts in ****' hair

So I declare war – Tha Liks, we fierce competitors

The Feds be checkin fo' us, writin' letters to these editors, like

"Tha Liks is veterans – they straight from California

We ain't even give a fuck when they sprayed that beer on us" like

{RRRRAHHH RAARRRAOW} just like a Dungeon Dragon

Taggin' "Tash" up on the wall while my pants is saggin'

Draggin' **** through the mud, clear blood all through the club

The quickest way to show some love is let a **** hit your bud

Every-time-we-give-y'all-shit-that

Blow up the spot (Fuck what you got, we got)

Shit for the East and the South and the West Coast

We blazin' hot (Controllin' the block, you better)

Watch-yo'-head-while-we-bust-somethin'

To make ya duck (Said, get down, ****, what?) You know

We-got-shit-that-make-y'all-wild-out

To bounce in the truck (Aiyyo, get with the funk, y'know)

Written by: G. Spivey, J. Robinson, Rex Smith, T. Smith

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