Doe Boy, Southside & Lil Uzi Vert – Bussin Lyrics | Official Video

Lyrics Bussin – Doe Boy, Southside & Lil Uzi Vert

Pills turn a n**ga to a junkie
Came out the mud, sip muddy
Geekin’ ho peon be thinkin’ I’m lackin’
He play with this, get bloody

I geek out with this thirty
Hit the mall, blow a whole thirty
My youngin’, he really a savage
He caught him a body and thought it was funny
P**sy ass boy said f**k me
Really just mad ’cause his b**ch wanna f**k me
Young n**ga flexin’, I play with a check
Ain’t no b**ch that can say

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God in the hood, I run it, name it, I done it
Lil’ n**ga ain’t know nothin’
His b**ch only thing ’round him bussin’

Went to his Mama house, shot up her crib, said we went too far
Can’t catch me in traffic, 160 the dash, can’t hit this car
He think she faithful, she need a rich n**ga, his b**ch get bought
Same n**ga I used to smack up, b**ch, when you get this hard
Trauma teachin’ lil’ n**gas they better not play with the bird
I got this .50, get murdered, can’t go out like Ja Rule on earth
He tried to jump in the streets and his brains got left on the curb
Geekin’ off pills, I wanna shoot at everything that get on my nerves

Friday, ride through they hood on a bike
Might kick they trash
But I’m Doe Beezy, I ain’t lil’ Chris
And they ain’t gon’ whip my ass, you dig
Lambo’ too fast, better get out the way
When I’m backin’ out
Go get a shooter, we shoot up the n**ga
He braggin’ ’bout
I call his b**ch and I’m smashin’
She know a young n**ga havin’
He come ’round here, actin’
Castin’, he gon’ end up in a casket

I had my shooter pull up, hit his basket
Said he want drama, my n**gas dramatic
RBM, murder fanatic
These n**gas b**ches, belong in a pageant
I can’t f**k with ’em, he rat, don’t f**k wit’ ’em
We make you get him tatted
Your favorite rapper, he a p**sy
I bet he gon’ panic, I reach for his Patek
Heard he was ballin’ so I sent a hitter
My young n**ga came through and he batted
Rollie don’t Tick-tock, but reach for this b**ch
Watch this b**ch gon’ start dancin’

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Yeah, man, that b**ch ain’t nothin’
I ain’t even really want her touch, yeah
Put together all my rhymes, but I’m far from a buster
Make your b**ch wait in line
N**gas gotta catch up just like mustard
Every girl with me, probably done suck some
She said, You got on too much money
She know my b**ch gave her hush money
I buy her Louis V like hush puppies
I don’t got it, eat got drug stomach
Take a G-6, I feel like I got vomit

Gettin’ money, I swear that I got hot
I remember when I used to sleep on a cot
Drug lord, yeah, my neck, it got rocks
I love w**res but she love all the guap
Now she in my tracts while suckin’ up c0ck
Baby diamonds on all my Gucci socks
Stay with beams on bottom my Glock
Pull out fifty-seven, I just opened the lock

Man, I knew I had it because I got a lot
So many cars, I need to go buy a lot
B**ch, I’m hot like a Cheeto, black like Don Cheadle
Oh, that’s your baby Put her in fetal
Eternal Atake, open her keyhole
Got a D-Eagle, clip on it see through
I got the Draco, don’t think you heard me
I make it fly, just like a birdie
N**gas, they fake like a perc 30
Put holes in his shirt, just like a jersey
N**gas they think that we cool
Like Black-Eyed Peas
I will f**k on your b**ches like she Fergie

Did it on purpose, birkin, I purse it
In front of the opps, act like a virgin
Where this s**t come took all this purging
The killers f**k with me, they gon’ reimburse me
Marni on Marni, b**ch, I can get nerdy
Pink diamonds on me, they look just like Kirby
She arch from the back, man, that b**ch keep it sturdy
Drive around NYC like I’m not dirty

Pills turn a n**ga to a junkie
Came out the mud, sip muddy
Geekin’ ho peon be thinkin’ I’m lackin’
He play with this, get bloody

I geek out with this thirty
Hit the mall, blow a whole thirty
My youngin’, he really a savage
He caught him a body and thought it was funny
P**sy ass boy said f**k me
Really just mad ’cause his b**ch wanna f**k me
Young n**ga flexin’, I play with a check
Ain’t no b**ch that can say

God in the hood, I run it, name it, I done it
Lil’ n**ga ain’t know nothin’
His b**ch only thing ’round him bussin’
Lil’ n**ga ain’t know nothin’
Lil’ ass n**ga, pee-wee ass n**ga
Yeah, then we shot at that n**ga cousin
Oh, really…

➤ Written by Doe Boy, Southside & Lil Uzi Vert
Album: Demons R Us
Produced by VOU & Southside
Doe Boy | Southside | Lil Uzi Vert | 2020

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