Lyrics Buck Em Down - Black Moon

Buck Em Down

Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life
Each and every nigga whenever I’m in the sight
Let my nigga Dru peep your style for your card
Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God
God hit them niggas with a verse real quick
C’mon God niggas is all on your dick
You know what they say about niggas who ride dicks
Upstate niggas become chicks, word life
I ain’t bullshittin, ask my nigga Buff
On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff
Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke
And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland
Shorty with the Shots that I Buck with fuck with
Gang hanger with the double-edged banger
And I got niggas clingin my drawers
Niggas fake I’mma bust a cap fuck that I’m breakin jaws
I’mma bring it to your chest like, wind
Fill your fuckin lungs up with all the bullshit from within
But I’mma put it back so parlay
To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Niggas tell me chill when I kick it
Although my shit is wicked, it’s all about the blunts and how I lick it
Or how I shot a nigga in the mug
With the slug leavin white chalk all on a pitch black rug
You couldn’t tell me other word to mother
When I was 15 runnin around I was the real street lover
On the corner out shootin the dice
Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist
GQ headin up to one-two-five
Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize
I couldn’t get the time of day when I was Little K
Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck?
Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts
But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts
Word to the shell around my chest
Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck
So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard
Or I’mma hit his ass with the motherfuckin plastic
Word life, I ain’t bullshittin
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
When I was in school I was a mack
Shorty was strapped with ill lyrical contact
Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G’d
And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed
A mad little nigga runnin up on em all
Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall
And all the older people sayin Shorty’s a bad-ass
But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last
They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda
Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya
In the nine-three it’s all about me
Ninety-four ninety-five that’s my years fuck it I’m takin over
In nineteen-ninety-eight I couldn’t wait
To get all my niggas and do shows from state to state
Now I’m the motherfucker that’s givin instructions
Fuckin with them niggas Beatminerz on productions
Welcome to Bucktown, U.S.A
Where the weak niggas get this shit everyday
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Buck em down, Buck em down
Aiyyo, this is goin out to all the real niggas
Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I’m sayin?
On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Butta
In Coney Island, shit is mad real out there
You know what I’m sayin?
Buckshot Shorty
Five F-T, my DJ Evil Dee
Mr. Walt, all my niggas in the motherfucker
You know what I’m sayin?
Smokin mad blunts
And just chillin.
So buck down the bullshit in ninety-three
Ninety-four, ninety-five, shit is ours
Black Moon, we out