(BUSY P WHAT THE FUCK?!)

[Verse 1]
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
Caught a ride 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 Cinespace
Ron got his camera all up in my face
Tomorrow morning, I'mma be on Cobrasnake
Making out with a chick that my girlfriend hates
But who cares, the party's downtown
I got a room at the Standard, we're leaving right now

[Hook]
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

[Verse 2]
In the middle of the dancefloor, so damn crunk
I see the Goldenvoice crew and they so damn drunk
Lindsey, Donna, the man Paul T!
Stacy and they all doin' shots with P
Me, I just saw my future wife walk past me
Singing 'bout 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 cock-and-lock
She put her hand down my pants
So I said, "Later P, I'mma see you in France"
[Hook]

[Outro]
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 n***as to burn some shit down when the white people fuck wit you
We don't take any shit
Peace!