A Trip Out Of Town
A Trip Out Of Town

A Trip Out Of Town easy guitar chords by Busta Rhymes

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Guitar
Tuning

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  • Intro 1


    Verse 1
    [Busta 
    Rhymes] 

    Yo, it all 
    began 
    like, 
    bust 
    it 

    My nigga 
    City 
    bout 
    to bounce 
    on a 
    trip 

    We met 
    some niggas 
    with 
    a lot 

    of things 
    they want 
    em to 
    flip 

    I told 
    my nigga 
    get 
    the dough 

    and keep 
    the blau 
    on 
    your hip 

    Travel 
    safe, 
    you know that I'ma 

    hold 
    it down 
    on the 
    strip 

    Good 
    looking, 
    word to mother 

    son 
    I give 
    you my 
    wit 

    But when 
    I get 
    back, 

    I'ma 
    bounce 
    straight 
    to your 
    crib 

    On 
    the strength, 

    son 
    slid 
    until 
    you to 
    the Greyhound 

    Wit a burn
    er 
    in the knap
    sack, 

    headed straight 
    outta 
    town 

    Now, 
    three 
    days 
    pass 
    I'm still 

    on 
    the strip 

    Doing hand 
    to hand 
    with 
    twelve collapsible, 

    stashable clips 

    With 
    little magnets 
    on the side 
    of the 
    clips 

    we planted 
    like 
    a pro
    ject 

    When police 
    come 
    we stick 
    the clips 

    in 
    any metal 
    object 

    Throwing 
    a nigga 
    on 
    the walls 

    and try 
    to search 
    me 
    down 

    laugh 
    knowin that 
    my 

    stash'll never be 
    found 

    Well 
    any
    way, 
    on 
    the third 
    day, 

    son 
    came 
    straight 
    to the 
    strip 

    Wit a new 
    floss 
    and 
    shiny 

    shoes 
    on the whip 

    My nig
    ga hit 
    me with 
    the latest, 

    greatest 

    He told 
    me get 
    inside 
    the whip 
    so I 
    can know 

    just what 
    the up 
    to date 
    is 

    He said 
    he fuckin 
    wit 
    some 
    Guyanese niggas 

    how ill 
    them niggas 
    is 

    What kind 
    of dough 
    they get, 

    and 
    how they handle 
    they 
    biz 

    How they 
    connect 
    with Jamaican 

    niggas 
    who speak 
    American 

    And 
    how they chains 
    swung 

    a medallion 
    iced 
    out pelicans 

    And how 
    they stay 

    wit four 
    pounders 

    And speak 
    Amer
    ican 
    to try 
    to blend 
    in 

    Like 
    they ain't 
    obvi
    ous out 
    of towners 

    Okay, 
    I've never 
    heard 
    of workers 

    getting 
    five 
    G's 
    pay 

    For trips 
    that last 
    for 
    only 
    2- 3 day 

    How 
    these 
    Guyanese niggas 
    be eating 

    pasta 
    but they love 
    zucchini 

    Rocking valor 
    tennis 
    suits 

    by Ser
    gio 
    Tecchini 

    Them type 
    of cats 
    that 
    call you 

    because 
    you can't 
    call 
    'em 

    Rocking 
    baseball 
    fitters 
    with wild 

    animal 
    skins 
    on 'em 

    How 
    they rock 
    silks 
    and tailor 
    made 
    pants 

    And 
    get a matching 
    bally 
    shoe 
    for 
    the silk 

    to step 
    in 
    the dance 

    Washrags hangin from 
    every 

    one of 
    our back 
    pockets 

    From 
    every fine 
    wine 
    to champagne 

    them 
    niggas'll straight 
    cop 
    it 

    And set 
    up shops 
    in them 
    neighborhoods 

    that 
    was residential 

    Rock 
    laced 
    whips 
    while the 

    workers'll floss 
    the latest 
    rentals 

    How 
    they fuck 
    with arrogant 

    bitches 
    who act 
    pussy 

    And 
    love to 
    hustle wit 
    niggas 

    and stash 
    coke 
    up 
    in they pussy 

    After 
    all of that 
    I wanted 
    ones 

    The way 
    my nigga 
    was 
    talking 
    so nex

    t trip 
    I went 
    to bounce 
    with son 

    So now 
    we out 
    of town 

    with 
    Guyanese cats 

    Up in 
    they gates 
    bubbling 

    packages 
    and laying 
    with 
    gats 

    Shit 
    was slow 
    until 
    the main 

    fiend 
    was 
    offed 

    Just like a thief 
    in the 
    night 

    And spread 
    the word 
    that we 
    was back 

    with the 
    white 

    Verse 2
    [Intermission] 

    "Hey yo 
    why don't you 
    tell that 

    crackhead to close 
    the fuckin 
    door 

    And shut 
    the fuck 
    up" 

    "Yeah man 
    and clean 
    the motherfucking 

    spot 
    up, smell 
    like" 

    "Break the 
    fucking 
    breakdown 
    in the working 
    city, 

    yo go 
    get the plates 

    And 
    the 
    gym 
    star" 

    "Yo light that 
    up, 

    lemme hit 
    that, gimme a 
    light, yeah man cut 
    that" 

    "Fuck 
    this shit" 

    Verse 3
    [Busta Rhymes] 

    Yeah, 
    see 
    how 
    we blowing 
    pa 

    The lookout 
    niggas 
    holding 
    fort 

    like they 
    was watchtowers 

    Bugging 
    on how 
    we went 
    through, 

    a half 
    a brick 
    every 
    couple 
    of hours 

    So 
    on and so 
    on, shit 

    is good 
    and we 
    eating 

    First 
    nigga 
    to 
    short a 
    package 
    will catch 

    the most 
    brutal 
    beat
    ing 

    The whole 
    town, 
    see 
    we now 
    own 
    it 

    Carry
    ing 
    on and 
    blemishing all 
    in the hearts 

    of 
    the best 
    moments 

    We stacking 
    cheddar 
    now 

    and shit 
    is all 
    clear 

    And we 
    was growing 
    as 
    working 

    niggas 
    wit aspiring 
    ideas 

    We love 
    to floss 
    and 
    the feeling 

    of pushing 
    chrome 
    shit 

    But in 
    the grand 
    scheme 
    these 

    niggas'll love 
    to have 
    they own 
    shit 

    Now 
    these niggas 
    was 
    really 

    ready to 
    swell 
    up 

    We decided 
    to separate 
    from them 

    niggas 
    and make 
    our shit 
    de
    velop 

    Off 
    in to 
    the 
    wilderness 

    of the wicked 
    Husid 

    We set 
    up shops 
    and 

    watched the 
    games 
    be
    gin 

    So 
    now we balling 
    like a motherfucker, 

    money 
    was 
    sick 

    Gas 
    on 
    the cheddar 
    and 

    these bitches 
    ridin 
    the 
    dick 

    Fucking 
    everything 
    from the local 
    McDonald's 

    bitches 
    with the biggest 
    as

    To attorney 
    bitches 
    that'll 

    beat 
    a charge 
    fast 

    We used 
    to taking 
    niggas' custies and leave 

    they set 
    up on 
    tilt 

    And watch 
    'em angrily 
    scheme 

    on the shit 
    that we 
    built 

    Ain't it funny 
    how 
    shit 
    transpire 
    in 
    fact 

    Not 
    too long 
    after 
    our ride 
    we took 
    the winner's 
    stash, 

    house 
    was 
    at 

    Some 
    niggas tried 
    to 
    run a jook 
    with 

    things in 
    they palm 

    Not a problem 
    so 
    immediately 

    reach 
    for 
    the john 

    Right away 
    the gun 
    buist! 

    straight 
    lifted 
    nigga 

    How 
    we moved 
    his 
    organs 
    with 

    kickback, shifted 
    nigga 

    Wild 
    shots 
    fire, 

    everybody 
    scatter 
    like 
    rats 

    Leavingg nothing 
    but gunpowder 
    and 

    a trail 
    of smoke 
    in 
    these gats 

    Now 
    we got 
    this 
    fagot 
    nigga blood 

    on our 
    hands 

    But fuck 
    it, 
    determined 
    to 
    fulfill 

    the best 
    of these 
    plans 

    Shit 
    was hot 
    but 
    we was 
    nowhere 

    near 
    ready to 
    fall 

    My son 
    said 
    he shot, 

    but he 
    wasn't 
    bleeding 
    at all 

    Word, 
    I started 
    bugging 
    when 

    my nigga 
    said 
    he feel 
    cold 

    Then 
    I looked 
    up 
    on the right 
    side 

    of his shirt 
    and found 
    little 
    hole 

    So as 
    we continue 
    to radically 

    blaze 
    the fifth 

    Flame 
    the 
    iron, not 
    giving 
    a fuck, 

    y'all 
    nig
    gas 
    want to rip? 

    Well 
    we 
    deaded 
    three out 
    of 

    the four niggas 
    who tried 
    to jook 

    One 
    nigga slid 
    and think 

    he got 
    off the 
    hook 

    Now let 
    me find 
    out 
    one out 
    of them 

    three 
    niggas 
    we bodied 

    Was 
    one of them 
    Guyanese niggas 

    who buy 
    drinks 
    up for 
    the party 

    He was 
    the nigga 
    to flood 

    the table 
    with 
    champagnes 

    Stupid 
    motherfucker 
    tried 
    to front, 

    we 
    had to leak 
    his brain 

    Suddenly 
    my nigga 
    fell 
    to 
    the floor 

    And said 
    his legs 
    feel like 
    them 

    shits ain't got 
    no feelings 
    no 
    more 

    More 
    the actin 
    up 
    the more 

    the shit 
    I felt 
    in my 
    gut 

    The shit 
    was all 
    over 
    as soon 

    Verse 4
    as the 
    dir
    ector 
    said 
    CUT! 

    That's 
    a wrap, 
    good acting 
    motherfuckers, 

    good 
    acting 

    That's 
    the shit 
    I'm talking 
    about 

    Y'all ready 
    to watch 
    the playback? 

    Fuck 
    around, that 
    shit'll be 
    a box 

    office 
    smash 
    motherfuckers 

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