Busta Rhymes – God’s Plan ft. J-Doe & O.T. Genasis Lyrics

(Verse 1 – Busta Rhymes)
Step up in the spot, sizzle it to death
Always leave a mark like when the metal hit your flesh
Blessed muhf**ka, everything about me fresh
Every time we do this s**t, we doing it to death
We getting money too, this sh*t don’t make no kinda sense
Pop! Make em run until they hop another fence
When I’m in the building, ni**as know I always got em and
The way we keep on winning, how the f**k you gon stop em?
Bi**h my money long, thicker than a waffle
Y’all know how we do it, everything colossal
Thirty karat diamond pink ring look like a marble
I don’t mean to startle, making bi**hes argue
Put it in your mouth, stop the yapping, and gargle
Take over the whole s**t, never do it partial
F**king up the building till they call a fire marshal
Drop another classic, add a chapter to the novel
Pop a couple bottles, f**k a couple models
Rev it to the point where ni**as bust open the throttle
You think you got a pot of gold? Got a couple potfuls
Could give a f**k about your shine, bi**h I got a watch full

(Chorus – Busta Rhymes)
Them boys hot bi**h, aw man
Make sure the penthouse suite got a ceiling fan
See, when I win, it’s like it’s God’s plan
And when they see it, got these ni**as saying God damn!
S**t changed ni**a, chain hang ni**a
Every time we drop, see how the s**t bang ni**a
We buzzing in the street until the s**t sting ni**a
We profit every time, that’s why we rich, lame ni**a

(Verse 2 – J-Doe)
I’m bout my paper, I’m bout my dough
I keep my watch face twenty below
Bi**h it’s only three things you need to know
All three is Can’t no one f**k with J-Doe, aye
I’m getting mula, I’m getting cash
If I say hi to her, she give up ass
I got a Ruger, don’t make me blast
My flow is too hot, why y’all listening to trash?
Aw yeah, I’m a beast lil ni**a, off the leash lil ni**a
I just bought a car that you can’t even lease lil ni**a
Don’t reach lil ni**a, just retreat lil ni**a
Cause you looking like a muhf**king feast lil ni**a

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 3 – O.T. Genasis)
Aye, okay, wrist look Rollie, charm look trophy
Top three rappers: O.T., O.T., and O.T
45 on me so my shirt look pokey
Buss that muthaf**ka till that barrel get smoky
Diamonds Tropicana, got a bag like I am Santa
It’s like 50 b*tches wit me and they all in my cabana
From the West Coast where these ni**as throw they sets and wave bandanas
If that’s at your neighborhood, you will go nail down from the hammers, I
Ride through any ni**a hood in them GTs
No Bloods, Pirus, CCs
Selling Os, and I don’t mean CDs
360 diamond chain, Butterfinger BBs, yeah

(Repeat Chorus)