Shabba Remix Lyrics

A$AP Ferg featuring Shabba Ranks, Busta Rhymes and Migos “Shabba (Remix)” lyrics.

[Intro : Shabba Ranks]
Him deh yah
S, and a H, and a A, double B, and a A, R-A-N-K-S
Always the best
Do the job, fly the flag
Lawd ah mercy, people

[Verse 1 : Shabba Ranks]
Say my name a likkle louder
Holla out mi name mek I rip up the crowd yah
Say it 3 times if a me unu shoulda
Oh man, set a lick a likkle louder
Holla out mi name mek I rip up the crowd yah
Say it 3 times if a me unu prouder
Hey, holla out mi name, jump to mi name
Call out mi name, bawl out mi name
Nah stop until it reach hall of fame
So yuh body waan Shabba know de same
People, holla out mi name, shout to mi name
Call out mi name, bawl out mi name
Nah stop until it reach hall of fame
Anytime mi sweat, mi sweat flame
Ah me dem in need of, true crowd pleaser
Turn non-believer, inna believer
Come crowd a people follow di procedure
Mi no Rakim but “follow the leader”
Head ago jump off a fool dem shoulder
Chop off dem head with mi cleaver
From Jamaica right back to Geneva
Shabba Ranking ah true crowd pleaser

[Hook : A$AP Ferg]
Sha-Shabba Ranks, Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks
Eight gold rings like I’m Sha-Shabba Ranks
Four gold chains like I’m Sha-Shabba Ranks
One gold tooth like I’m —

[Verse 2 : A$AP Ferg]
Who that stocky ni–a with the grills?
(Trap Lord you’re so trill)
I could get a new Bugatti but a ni–a rather chill
Rather sit up on the block and stack it ’till I get a mill
What about them old bi–hes who ain’t wanna give me feel?
Now they want a make it gushy cause a ni–a got a deal
Rather double up and strap and hit a booty in Brazil
I hit Punta Cana when sh– gets so real
Two bad bi–hes in my vehicle
Yellow hood rats like Pikachu
Hit it from the back got me screaming like
Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah like Yeezus do
Bringing rappers from the dead like Jesus do
Can’t call them bone thugs cause they eating dude
I bust-a-rhyme and flip-mode, speak the flu
Ni–a Ya Ya Ya eat ya crew
Butter pecan, Puerto Rican, be freakin’ and peekin’
A hood pope get good throat, I’m skeetin’ the sheets
She feelin’ my team, I asked her if she feelin’ The Weekend
Cause a ni–a like she give head while you’re singin’
I’mma get the bread while I’m breathin’
I’m the rookie of the year and you better believe it
I be barkin’ like a Que like im very collegiate!
Like a pedigree eatin’

[Verse 3 : Quavo]
Meetin’ up the plug at a QuikTrip
Young ni–a had to make that money back flip
I’m trappin’ with accuracy
Gold on my toilet like Master P
Lil’ mama, she drunk off a daiquiri
Shabba Ranks my pinky finger, please
You mad cause you workin’ at Mickey D’s
Young ni–a, I’m flexin’ like Hercules
You can take her to the movie and go watch a film
A$AP Ferg, front me a pelican
Lean, lean, lean, that’s my medicine
Quavo, old money, Sega Genesis

[Verse 4 : Takeoff]
Takeoff got ten gold rings, bling, bling, bling
For tryna take my rings, gun go bang
Cashed out on the jeweler, ching
Got ’em feelin’ like Martin Luther King, I had a dream
Actavis, I only sip and begin with a beam by extending my clip
If I see the police, grab my chips and I dip
Snapping my fingers, we fillin’ arenas I flip up the Hannah Montana in real
I feel like that Keyshia Ka’oir, that double AK-47’s, they aim at your lip
Versace, Givenchy, this sh– is ridiculous

[Verse 5 : Busta Rhymes]
Look, ni–a, get it straight, you could never f with my clique, boy
Aww sh–, quick, hit you with the drop kick jaw
Bone break, you can see the way the clock tick, tock, tick
Funny all these ni–as stop, bi–h boy
Bust’ Rhymes back up in the c**kpit, spit toxic, always givin’ ni–as hot sh–, boy
Ni–as see me shinin’ ’til he’s sick, sick, sick
Any bi–h really want Islam di–, boy
So much jewelry, ni–a lookin’ priceless out here
A lot of rappin’ ni–as lookin’ lifeless out here
Kill ’em ’til they say a ni–a triflin’ out here
And you can let ’em talk, you know who the nicest out here
Vroom, vroom, vroom! Bite dust pu—
Better get low when yu hear de shot buss, pu—
Every time I come here, know I body ni–as fully
Godfather with it while I murder little rookie
And I’m bigger than your shorty though her pu— kinda bushy
Fu–in’ on the low, Versace logo on the hoodie
Airhorn blow, my ni–a, bwam bwam bwam
Let it go, you already know what’s really goodie
Killin’ sh– like I’m some kind of cancer
Bag your bi–h, now she my private dancer
I don’t understand why ni–as feel like they have to ask who the god is
When you know what’s the answer
Chokehold sh– ’til they be callin’ me strangler
Hundred million dollars, safe behind the plasma
Proper with it, ’til he spread the propaganda
And when I TEC talk, can we pop your man up
On my Sha-Shabba Ranks
On my Sha-Shabba Ranks
Ni–a, gettin’ so much money
It’s like I just robbed a bank, ni–a