The Bizness

And, and bass up the track a little bit

'Cuz I, I'm here I wanna hear that boom bish boom, knowhatI'msayin'?

Yeah, yeah, you know the bizness

Common Sense, soul with the De La

Get all them playas

We the rhyme sayers

Huh and that's the bizness, hah

Gonna do it like this

Gettin' it hot

Like the Chicago streets

I speak divine of God theories, no need to be high

Always exhale the facts 'cause I don't inhale lie

Play the greater man's game, to bounce off my losses

So I can earn the acres, the houses, yeah, the horses

Of course, it's much greater than your Benx or your Lex

The engine to my comprehension is just too complex

Much too complex, EFX be live like Das

Making moves down South, to avoid the chaos

And never flaunt the coin 'cuz dime-getters be gazin'

They call me Luther Van, they say my style is so amazin'

I'm fazin' those who're supposed to have the last laughter

'Cuz even when I'm gone, I'm reappearin' in the after

I haveta send respects to real money makers

Do not connect us with those champaign sippin' money fakers

Taste the quarter pound with spice from Chi-town

Now what that prove, you're so full, you can't even move

'Cause I'm the D to the O, the V to the E

And can't another brother cook these delicacies

Well I'm the P L U, the G to the One

Walk around the planet earth, making money, having fun

And I'm the C to the O, double M O N

I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win

I'm the C to the O, double M O N

I sit and think with a drink

Do you wanna be a MC? Or do you wanna serve?

Do you wanna be dope? Or do you wanna deal it?

Fabricated acrylic, I feel it, I'm the style molester

I do a show, get Extra P's like the Large Professor

In fact I get more hoes than Tessa, peep game like a

Refa-ree in soul control of my

Destiny, in the best of three out of five

Whip anybody ass at NBA Live, rappers

Take a dive like Greg Lougainis with his bitch-ass

Rather be in Bebe's alley, than at the click with gators

Not a hater of the players, I'm more like a coach or an owner

I used to love her but now I bone her

At one point in rhyme, I thought I lost my erection

But then I got it back with the resurrection, blessings

Upon rhymes, old man who called him traitor

Big Com Stradamus, niggaz, styles I predict

I'm the C to the O, double M O N

I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win

And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E

And can't no other brother cook these delicacies

Well I'm the P L U, the G to the One

Walk around the planet earth, making money, having fun

Walk around the planet earth, making money, having fun

Walk around the planet earth, making money, having fun

I'm the most from the coast of the Eastern flav'

Droppin' more knowledge than litter, on the New York pave'

It's me, wonder why, in the place to be

Certified, as superior, MC

While others explore to make it hardcore

I make it hard for wack MC's to even step inside the door

'Cause these kids is rhyming, some timing

And when we get to racing on the mic, they line up to see

The lyrical killing, with stained egos on the ceiling

My rhymes escalates like black death rates

Over musical plates, being played as the rule

Kids thinking, stepping to the Soul, you're labeled fools

Who claims to drop jewels but for now you do the catching

I don't worry on what crew you run or what section of earth

You reside, you're not even a man

So I don't deem it mandatory, taking your pride

But I will 'cause my man says, ?Soul for the life?

You cried, "Keepin' it real", yet you should try keepin' it right

That's understanding microphone mathematics

Which leaves the currency in temporary world status

And when one shows, he posed threat to this one

This one will make that one into none

Simple equation, zero, you shouldn't play hero

If you can't stand strong like the island I'm from

Now I'm the P L U, the G to the One

Walk around the planet earth, making money, having fun

Yeah and I'm the C to the O, double M O N

I sit and think with a drink about how I'm gonna win

And I'm the D to the O, the V to the E

And can't another brother cook these delicacies

See can't another brother cook these delicacies

See can't another brother cook these delicacies

Ah, that's how, that's how I'm supposed to do my thing, huh

Like triple it, alright

That's how we do it, all the way from Strong Island to Chicago

The type of freestyler flow

Yeah, it's fluent and we don't need to flow no more

To my man Mos Def, yo, he nonstop

To my man Enola, yo, he's nonstop

And to my kin de Calhoun, yo, he's nonstop

Yo that girl MP, yo, she's nonstop

And to that crew Camp Lo, yo, they nonstop

And to that nigga Pop Life, yo, he's nonstop

And to my cousin Fudd Love, you know he nonstop

My brother Lucky and Pert, yo, they nonstop

And to my man Joe Buck, you know he nonstop

And my man Extra P, yo, he's nonstop

And my man Mike Divine, you know he nonstop

That kid called Baby Paul, yo, he's nonstop

And to the Jazzyfatnastees, yo, you're nonstop

And my peoples Beatminerz, man they nonstop

And to my man Mr. Bug, you know you're nonstop

And yo, Litro, yo, he's nonstop

And to, my dean The Green, yo, you're nonstop

And to my man Prince Paul, yo, he's nonstop

And to that man Kid Capri, yo, you nonstop

And A Tribe Called Quest, man, they nonstop

And don't forget the Jungle Beez, yo, they nonstop

Let me tell you a little something about Soul, tell 'em son

I be a piece of the East coast, so give a toast to

Plug Wonder, why back in the day who soaked his words in jigga

So when I ran a phrase in June, you didn't catch it 'til December

I'm a member of them kids from the inner city

Giving you kitties audible treats, you be aching for making

More money than a pagan holiday

Not from the PJ's, yet I still got something to say