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Текст песни Busy Bee - Murder

Busy Bee - Murder слова песни

I was walkin down a dark way, trouble had to find meThe street corner shark was comin up behind meI grabbed my pistol, punk started to whistleLike you got a missile, boy, you know this`llBe fun, I put my hand up on my gunHe tried to cut me on run, huh - but yo, I`m not the oneFlexin up the trigger finger, a dead ringerI`m not a singer, and life just don`t lingerBut I looked the boy in his eyes, and he almost criedBut before he diedMurderIn the first degreeThat`s what you get when you`re messin with the Busy BeeYeah, murderYou better write your willI`m Busy Bee, I pay the bills, dressed to killMurderMurder styleMurder styleA black guy on Howard BeachA boy lay bleedin from his head to his feetThe police writin up his reportDrinkin coffee from a cup and doin what he was taughtAt the academy, mistaken identityThe boy was a friend of me, guess he wasn`t meant to beRemedies, diagnosis or cure or a conclusionThere`s no confusion, it`s just winnin and losinHey, there`s no pity or remorseThere`s no pause, cause what`s lost is lostHuh, so throw his body in the bagAnd they`ll say that he was high on crackBut it`sMurderIn the first degreeThat`s what you get when you`re messin with societyYeah, murderYou better write your willI`m Busy Bee, I pay my bills, dressed to killI`m talkin boutMurderGirl named Patty drived a black CaddyThe girl was so fine, I wanted to kiss her daddyBring her mama out to dinnerBring Patty to the race track, then bring home a winnerBuy her earrings and medaillonsI got juice by the gallonBut she got legs like a stallionPlus to be a cutie`s her dutyShe got brains plus beautyDon`t even think about the bootyBumpers, and she got no breaksSo when she walks her shimmy`ll shakeLike ??? from the earthquake, on the eaves she would dropShe`d go on the horn and say "I can`t stop"The way she move, the way she poseShe knows how to put on - and even take off clothesI never leave her, I never desert herShe so bad - the bitch was murderYeahDance, suckerThis is murderA pretty good-lookin, fine young ladyDrivin a Mercedes, soon to have a babyThree months gone, she`s treated like a pawnAnd all the joyridin good times - all that was goneHer world changed, she was feelin strangeThings was runnin through her brain, cravin, hunger painsAnd her friend, he stopped goin steadyThen reality hit her - she realized she ain`t readySo now she must proceed with cautionAnd sneak to the clinic and gettin an abortionThey`re both foetal, the less is too evilIt` still raw, but still legalIt`s murderIn the first degreeThat`s what you get when you`re messin with societyYeah, it`s murderYou better write your willI`m Busy Bee, I pay the bills, I`m dressed to killIn Bed-StuyIt`s do or dieIt`s no whyWhy`s a crooked letterYes, let`s go get herYou better met my beretta(Why?) The song set herDon`t do the crimeIf you can`t do the timeDo let her get awayTo pray you must layBecause if you get caughtYou get the time anywayA lotta guys went to jail who ain`t readyThe only thing worse than a criminal is one that`s pettyGo to jail to get largeHe`s doin life - what`s his charge?MurderIn the first degreeThat`s what you get when you`re messin with the Busy BeeYeah, it`s murderYou better write your willI`m Busy Bee, I pay the bills, I`m dressed to killTalkin boutMurderMurder style

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