Busta Phree - Richie Rich

Did a little bit of jail time, now I’m back in the house

And I’m jonesin', and you know what I’m thinking about

Sex, and in the studio getting mine

Ain’t dropped a tape since, uh, ‘89

I was crossed up by some brothers that be jackin'

So if you bought that tape and felt that it was lackin'

Here’s that missing link, and my apologies extended

That shit jumped off but that ain’t how it was intended

But yo, peep it, I’m the creator of that old shit

You know it fa sho, that’s why my old shit hit

And now I’m to the head, I’ma let you fools see

What Double R can do solo, ‘cause I’m busta phree

Busta free… in the night

Straight solo, he’s solo

He’s busta phree… in the day

Straight solo, straight solo

But now that jailhouse is full of brothas that be bustin'

But I can’t bite, I’m not that nigga to be trustin'

The drag and the drama about the things they be havin'

See them fools on the street, and I be laughin'

‘Cause they tore back—oh, where your Cadillac at?

Oh now it’s in the shop—fool, you sniffin' hop

And getting dime thangs—trick, them screens ain’t even clean

That’s a damn shame—all that time, he was a fiend

But look, that ain’t that the half—I heard ‘em worse than that

They got brothas in jail with a hundred G’s stacked

That ain’t impossible, I’ve seen brothas that raw

But now when commissary come, this nigga don’t even draw

He jocks my sack—"Yo Rich, shoot some soup"

Hey, what’s the scoop?

I thought you had a hundred G’s, troop?

Get off my dizick, support your own damn habits

Get dry draggin', and acting like you living lavish

You’s a struggler, straight broke, that’s no joke

Using heroin, speed, crank, and probably white dope

Telling lies ‘cause you was bunkin' with me

I couldn’t wait ‘til my release date to be busta phree

Busta free… in the night

Straight solo, he’s solo

He’s busta phree… in the day

Straight solo, straight solo, yeah

Now you can bounce, rock, skate, and roll

But don’t side bust, ‘cause brotha, I trust

That you could peep the game in the script I spit

And ain’t no shame in my game, I kick that saucy shit

Now I can’t run my caper, spend a boatload of paper

Without one of these old marks catchin' the vapors

They wantin' to hang out and fight for me at my shows

Dog the blunts, and showstop on the hoes

I’m getting sick of this busta shit

I’m ‘bout to blast out, stab out, mash out

And try my best to get further

Before these cats in the Town make the Double catch a murder

And on the stand when I enter my plea

I’m straight guilty, one time, but now I’m busta phree

Believe that

Free… free, yeah

Straight solo, he’s solo

Free… free, yeah

Straight solo, straight solo, yeah

Oh, the funk is on, it’s on its way (It's on its way)

Ballin' every night and every day (Every day, yeah)

Oh, the funk is on, it’s on its way (On its way)

Ballin' every night and every day (And every day, yeah, hey)

Ballin' every night and every, every day

Ballin' every night and every day, yeah