Lyrics:
Power high, power low
You could take 'em all to school
You could fly, wilt the stilt had nothing on you
Lambchops and afro-do, Milwaukee bucks
(Buck Trent & George McCormick)
Suppose you wanted someone the way I want you
Just imagine your body, mind and soul breaking in two
Walk
Everythangs corrupt, everythangs fucked up
Everythangs 'bout to buck me shit out of luck
Everythangs corrupt, everythangs fucked up
Everythangs
skies
And we can skin a buck, we can run a trot line
And a country boy can survive, country folks can survive
I had a good friend in New York City
skies
And we can skin a buck, we can run a trot line
And a country boy can survive, country folks can survive
I had a good friend in New York City
Buck buck buck-buck-buck, buck-buck buck buck!
All rude bwoy lissen up!
Black cop!! Black cop black cop black cop
Stop shootin black people, we
the bucks by one by one, leaving nothing in return.
Watching the majesty blow past.
Speculating which will be the last.
Savoring my piece of pie.
help me
My niggas, they grimey
Put slit's in your cheeks (Goddamnit)
Any mothafucka that'll claim that he bang
Couldn't be about it
So I hang him by his
put him by
A buck knife, a saw blade, a lead pipe, a twelve gauge
I could've deep-sixed him, wouldn't bat an eye
Well, he's not like we are, see he
by sharp things I've been saying so long
I can't believe the way she takes it
I've been practicing
The art of heartbreak
Practicing
The art
pony and a Navajo
Who used to bake frijoles in cornmeal dough
For the people passing by
They thought that they would make some easy bucks
By
the wind and rain
By havin' strength to go against the grain
Well, there's more folks than a few
Who share my point of view
But they're worried
If they're
making it rain
Go to Milwaukee and n stunt with some bucks
They counted me out I ain't giving a fuck
Iceberg Tin like Ice Trae Young
Damn they so mad
a dark corridor
Then opened the post one morning
Woke up one morning
Doctor Bucks' letter
Of my own making, I walk a dark corridor o'er my heart
to check you
I'm Chi as buck-fifty's and Pelle Pelle leathers
Some say my beats made the Bulls play better
I say, black on black is the hate that hate
got caught
Got his head popped
Dead body dropped
That's that Buck shot
Muzzle flashing hot
Gon get yourself caught, by that Buck shot
By that, By that,
pony and a Navajo
Who used to bake frijoles in cornmeal dough
For the people passing by
They thought that they would make some easy bucks
By
a bigger rep
The trigger finger strapped
I wanna see another nigga step
I play the cards
Lost by your dingy Mista Gilligan
The mighty mad writer's
pony and a Navajo
Who used to bake frijoles in cornmeal dough
For the people passing by
They thought that they would make some easy bucks
By
the club scene where I met Ms. Green Eyes
She walked by asking me, "Are you Nas?"
Why? "If you was I'd be totally TWI"
What's that? "Totally with it,
Abiding by the part where the bitch
Get raped for some fuckin' bucks
I will cum on your flesh and bones
How can I? How can I? How can I?
Get up, make a buck
Get up, make a buck
My race was bred on hash
My race was bred on hash
Get up, make
pony and a Navajo
Who used to bake frijoles in cornmeal dough
For the people passing by
They thought that they would make some easy bucks
By
the police
Strap it went buck buck buck buck
Booyaka shot buck buck buck buck
Booyaka shot
Dirt on her heels wind on her back
Laughter silenced by the drone
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