Lord, have mercy on my soul
How many chickens have I stole?
One last night and night before
I'm goin' back and tryna get ten, eleven mo', I'm star-
It ain't dope if you can't sell it, it ain't gas if you can't smell it
This that shit, if you can't tell it, you a lame (you a lame)
If you get digits, then I'm wit' it, crime committed, yo, I did it
Must admit it got me rich as f*ckin' Richie
Bought a dog and named him Dollar, bought my bitch a diamond collar
Copped the '96 Impala, two-inch dropper, made a squatter
Forgis, didn't it cost a dollar? Money funny when you gettin' it
You ain't even gotta spend it, money turned the saints to sinnin'
Been this way since the beginnin', when you broke and got potential
Everybody act offended when you dominate and winnin'
Everybody is a enemy, they pretendin' winnin'
And it's evil asses creepin' on you wit' a semi
Phony f*ckers filled wit' envy get you lined right up in Lennox
They intention leave you flat-lined, laid out, meet a early endin'
But that's cliché 'cause you know the consequence that come wit' sinnin' (come wit' sinnin')
New beginnin', if you really 'bout that, listen, I'm bearin' witness
I'm a nigga that read Robert Beck, watch plays by August Wilson
I really miss my pretty stripper, read me Zora while she kneelin'
It don't matter 'bout our valor if the system say we villains
It don't matter if you Jamil Al-Amin or Jeffery Williams
'Cause yo' enemies the same and they will never see you different
I'm determined, I'm gon' earn it 'fore I go to Hell or Heaven
I could be a Andy Young or I could be a Wesley Merritt
What I won't be is a sucker, punk, a chump that's movin' scary, ayy
I am all Atlanta from the start until the endin'
I work a job and break my back and serve a sack to feed my chirren
Killer Mike - BUSSIN BRICKS INTRO Lyrics
Killer Mike - BUSSIN BRICKS INTRO Lyrics
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Lord, have mercy on my soul
How many chickens have I stole?
One last night and night before
I'm goin' back and tryna get ten, eleven mo', I'm star-
It ain't dope if you can't sell it, it ain't gas if you can't smell it
This that shit, if you can't tell it, you a lame (you a lame)
If you get digits, then I'm wit' it, crime committed, yo, I did it
Must admit it got me rich as f*ckin' Richie
Bought a dog and named him Dollar, bought my bitch a diamond collar
Copped the '96 Impala, two-inch dropper, made a squatter
Forgis, didn't it cost a dollar? Money funny when you gettin' it
You ain't even gotta spend it, money turned the saints to sinnin'
Been this way since the beginnin', when you broke and got potential
Everybody act offended when you dominate and winnin'
Everybody is a enemy, they pretendin' winnin'
And it's evil asses creepin' on you wit' a semi
Phony f*ckers filled wit' envy get you lined right up in Lennox
They intention leave you flat-lined, laid out, meet a early endin'
But that's cliché 'cause you know the consequence that come wit' sinnin' (come wit' sinnin')
New beginnin', if you really 'bout that, listen, I'm bearin' witness
I'm a nigga that read Robert Beck, watch plays by August Wilson
I really miss my pretty stripper, read me Zora while she kneelin'
It don't matter 'bout our valor if the system say we villains
It don't matter if you Jamil Al-Amin or Jeffery Williams
'Cause yo' enemies the same and they will never see you different
I'm determined, I'm gon' earn it 'fore I go to Hell or Heaven
I could be a Andy Young or I could be a Wesley Merritt
What I won't be is a sucker, punk, a chump that's movin' scary, ayy
I am all Atlanta from the start until the endin'
I work a job and break my back and serve a sack to feed my chirren
How many chickens have I stole?
One last night and night before
I'm goin' back and tryna get ten, eleven mo', I'm star-
It ain't dope if you can't sell it, it ain't gas if you can't smell it
This that shit, if you can't tell it, you a lame (you a lame)
If you get digits, then I'm wit' it, crime committed, yo, I did it
Must admit it got me rich as f*ckin' Richie
Bought a dog and named him Dollar, bought my bitch a diamond collar
Copped the '96 Impala, two-inch dropper, made a squatter
Forgis, didn't it cost a dollar? Money funny when you gettin' it
You ain't even gotta spend it, money turned the saints to sinnin'
Been this way since the beginnin', when you broke and got potential
Everybody act offended when you dominate and winnin'
Everybody is a enemy, they pretendin' winnin'
And it's evil asses creepin' on you wit' a semi
Phony f*ckers filled wit' envy get you lined right up in Lennox
They intention leave you flat-lined, laid out, meet a early endin'
But that's cliché 'cause you know the consequence that come wit' sinnin' (come wit' sinnin')
New beginnin', if you really 'bout that, listen, I'm bearin' witness
I'm a nigga that read Robert Beck, watch plays by August Wilson
I really miss my pretty stripper, read me Zora while she kneelin'
It don't matter 'bout our valor if the system say we villains
It don't matter if you Jamil Al-Amin or Jeffery Williams
'Cause yo' enemies the same and they will never see you different
I'm determined, I'm gon' earn it 'fore I go to Hell or Heaven
I could be a Andy Young or I could be a Wesley Merritt
What I won't be is a sucker, punk, a chump that's movin' scary, ayy
I am all Atlanta from the start until the endin'
I work a job and break my back and serve a sack to feed my chirren
Writer: Archie Hall, Michael Render, Otis Redding
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Performed By: Killer Mike
Language: English
Length: 1:35
Written by: Archie Hall, Michael Render, Otis Redding