God's Plan Lyrics - Busta Rhymes

Step up in the spot, sizzle it to death 

Always leave a mark like when the metal hit your flesh 

Blessed muhfucka, everything about me fresh 

Every time we do this shit, we doing it to death 

We getting money too, this shit don't make no kinda sense 

(Pop!) Make 'em run until they hop another fence 

When I'm in the building, niggas know I always got 'em and 

The way we keep on winning, how the fuck you gon' stop' em? 

Bitch my money long, thicker than a waffle 

Y'all know how we do it, everything colossal 

Thirty karat diamond pinky ring look like a marble 

I don't mean to startle, making bitches argue 

Put it in your mouth, stop the yapping, and gargle 

Take over the whole shit, never do it partial 

Fucking up the building till they call a fire marshal 

Drop another classic, add a chapter to the novel 

Pop a couple bottles, fuck a couple models 

Rev it to the point where niggas bust open the throttle 

You think you got a pot of gold? Got a couple potfuls 

Could give a fuck about your shine, bitch I got a watch full 

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Them boys hot bitch, 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 niggas saying "God damn!" 

Shit changed nigga, chain hang nigga 

Every time we drop, see how the shit bang nigga 

We buzzing in the street until the shit sting nigga 

We profit every time, that's why we rich, lame nigga 

I'm bout my paper, I'm bout my dough 

I keep my watch face twenty below 

Bitch it's only three things you need to know 

All three is "Can't no one fuck with J-Doe", aye 

I'm getting moolah, 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 nigga, off the leash lil nigga 

I just bought a car that you can't even lease lil nigga 

Don't reach lil nigga, just retreat lil nigga 

Cause you looking like a muhfuckin' feast lil nigga 

Photos 

Them boys hot bitch, 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 niggas saying "God damn!" 

Shit changed nigga, chain hang nigga 

Every time we drop, see how the shit bang nigga 

We buzzing in the street until the shit sting nigga 

We profit every time, that's why we rich, lame nigga 

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 muthafucka till that barrel get smoky 

Diamonds Tropicana, got a bag like I am Santa 

It's like 50 bitches wit' me and they all in my cabana 

From the West Coast where these niggas throw they sets and wave bandanas 

If that's at your neighborhood, you will go nail down from the hammers, I 

Ride through any nigga hood in them GTs 

No Bloods, Pirus, CCs 

Selling Os, and I don't mean CDs 

360 diamond chain, Butterfinger BBs, yeah 

Them boys hot bitch, 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 niggas saying "God damn!" 

Shit changed nigga, chain hang nigga 

Every time we drop, see how the shit bang nigga 

We buzzing in the street until the shit sting nigga 

We profit every time, that's why we rich, lame nigga