• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• To Protect And Entertain (feat. Murs) - Busy P
• Chop Suey - Busy P
• Murder - Busy Bee

L.A., city of smog
Scenesters, hipsters, sneakers, blogs
I got the flyer from Amoeba Records
I called up P and I said, "Yo, let's check this"
I heard at these rave-things, chicks get naked
And I got a dick that's as big as Texas
?? arrived from the crew LA DAFT
I said it's my first rave, they just laughed
Picked up P from the Magic Castle
And hit up LAX and got in, no hassle
We left there when we hit up centerspace
Ron got his camera all up in my face
Tomorrow morning, I'ma be on Cobrasnake
Making out with a chick that my girlfriend hates
But who cares, the party's downtown
??, we're leaving right now
To protect and entertain
In party we trust
Them other DJs ain't fuckin' with us
And from Paris to L.A.
In cash we trust
It's Murs and Busy P, they ain't fuckin' with us
To protect and entertain
In party we trust
Them other DJs ain't fuckin' with us
And from Paris to L.A.
In cash we trust
It's Murs and Busy P, they ain't fuckin' with us
To protect and entertain
In party we trust
Them other DJs ain't fuckin' with us
And from Paris to L.A.
In cash we trust
It's Murs and Busy P, motherfucker!
In the middle of the dancefloor, so damn crunk
I see the Goldenvoice crew and they so damn drunk
Lindsey, Donna, my man Paul T!
Stacy and they all doin' shots with P
Me, I just saw my future wife walk past me
Singing that Peaches--damn she nasty
DJ AM, Steve Aoki
Got the dancefloor packed and it's mostly
Girls, girls, every day
From Paris to Canada to U.S.A.
I snatched one up and we danced for hours
She talked too much; she was off that powder
But looked so good in her Jeremy Scott
And her looks looked perfect for my copping lot
She put her hand down my pants
So I said, "Later P, I'll see you in France"
To protect and entertain
In party we trust
Them other DJs ain't fuckin' with us
And from Paris to L.A.
In cash we trust
It's Murs and Busy P, they ain't fuckin' with us
To protect and entertain
In party we trust
Them other DJs ain't fuckin' with us
And from Paris to L.A.
In cash we trust
It's Murs and Busy P, they ain't fuckin' with us
To protect and entertain
In party we trust
Them other DJs ain't fuckin' with us
And from Paris to L.A.
In cash we trust
It's Murs and Busy P, motherfucker!
Paris to Los Angeles
Au revoir, motherfuckers
And you can fuck with my accent all you want
But you can suck my dick
And shoutout to all the--all my, all my n-words
All my black people in France
For being the only other niggas to burn some shit down
when the white people fuck wit you
We don't take any shit

Le Chop Suey c'est Bon!
Le Chop Suey c'est Cool!

I was walkin down a dark way, trouble had to find me
The street corner shark was comin up behind me
I grabbed my pistol, punk started to whistle
Like you got a missile, boy, you know this'll
Be fun, I put my hand up on my gun
He tried to cut me on run, huh - but yo, I'm not the one
Flexin up the trigger finger, a dead ringer
I'm not a singer, and life just don't linger
But I looked the boy in his eyes, and he almost cried
But before he died
In the first degree
That's what you get when you're messin with the Busy Bee
Yeah, murder
You better write your will
I'm Busy Bee, I pay the bills, dressed to kill
Murder style
Murder style
A black guy on Howard Beach
A boy lay bleedin from his head to his feet
The police writin up his report
Drinkin coffee from a cup and doin what he was taught
At the academy, mistaken identity
The boy was a friend of me, guess he wasn't meant to be
Remedies, diagnosis or cure or a conclusion
There's no confusion, it's just winnin and losin
Hey, there's no pity or remorse
There's no pause, cause what's lost is lost
Huh, so throw his body in the bag
And they'll say that he was high on crack
But it's
In the first degree
That's what you get when you're messin with society
Yeah, murder
You better write your will
I'm Busy Bee, I pay my bills, dressed to kill
I'm talkin bout
Girl named Patty drived a black Caddy
The girl was so fine, I wanted to kiss her daddy
Bring her mama out to dinner
Bring Patty to the race track, then bring home a winner
Buy her earrings and medaillons
I got juice by the gallon
But she got legs like a stallion
Plus to be a cutie's her duty
She got brains plus beauty
Don't even think about the booty
Bumpers, and she got no breaks
So when she walks her shimmy'll shake
Like??? from the earthquake, on the eaves she would drop
She'd go on the horn and say "I can't stop"
The way she move, the way she pose
She knows how to put on - and even take off clothes
I never leave her, I never desert her
She so bad - the bitch was murder
Yeah
Dance, sucker
This is murder
A pretty good-lookin, fine young lady
Drivin a Mercedes, soon to have a baby
Three months gone, she's treated like a pawn
And all the joyridin good times - all that was gone
Her world changed, she was feelin strange
Things was runnin through her brain, cravin, hunger pains
And her friend, he stopped goin steady
Then reality hit her - she realized she ain't ready
So now she must proceed with caution
And sneak to the clinic and gettin an abortion
They're both foetal, the less is too evil
It' still raw, but still legal
It's murder
In the first degree
That's what you get when you're messin with society
Yeah, it's murder
You better write your will
I'm Busy Bee, I pay the bills, I'm dressed to kill
In Bed-Stuy
It's do or die
It's no why
Why's a crooked letter
Yes, let's go get her
You better met my beretta
(Why?) The song set her
Don't do the crime
If you can't do the time
Do let her get away
To pray you must lay
Because if you get caught
You get the time anyway
A lotta guys went to jail who ain't ready
The only thing worse than a criminal is one that's petty
Go to jail to get large
He's doin life - what's his charge?
In the first degree
That's what you get when you're messin with the Busy Bee
Yeah, it's murder
You better write your will
I'm Busy Bee, I pay the bills, I'm dressed to kill
Talkin bout