Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bucktown USA, artist - Cocoa Brovaz.
Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Bucktown USA |
Yeah |
Y-Yeah |
Once again |
Bucktown USA is the place where I rest |
Should I say chill 'cause there ain’t no rest for me yet |
Shit, I can’t say chill. |
cause the property’s hot |
Got to get it while the gettin’could be got or get not |
'Cause of those who cop block, or those who get not |
Spillin’beans like a cook to them crooked ass cops |
To all my G’s don’t snooze |
'Cause they crews in blues and whites |
Comin’to the PJ’s lookin’for fights |
Mr. Officer cool down your temper |
Me just cool you n’alf to come like no murderer |
I try to do my thing, and you try to take me in Have me stressed with a bunch of dope fiends in the pen |
Then again |
That’s the place where you see the same face in thew street |
Everybody got to charge the beat |
Once again |
Facin’the magistrate with the screwface |
Bounce on the D-A-T-S-T-B, the new case |
Bucktown |
Home where the grass is greenah |
And all the gods and earths choose a court in Medina |
Bucktown |
The place where I received my roots |
Got put on to this loot |
And got my first Tim boots |
Bucktown |
See me in the G-S-T-0−0 |
On the side of the road |
Gettin’harrassed by po-po's |
Bucktown |
Home of my B-C-C |
And everybody that I roll with, the family |
Boot Camp’s the way of life for a loner like me Constantly holdin’courts in the street with police |
Like the sergeant 81st, pretty boy is what they call 'em |
Said he was a gun man, duke is kinda brawlic |
Speaks with an accent, ??? |
I would imagine |
A hot-headed dred known for jumping into action |
We danced a few times |
He got his, I got mine |
Called the whole force up to pat us down for the crime |
Said it’s all about a quarter and his veins bleed blue |
Your man Rudey, Juliani fucked it up for you |
Ain’t gonna be no dice throwin' |
Dead that weed blowin' |
Domestic violence, automatic fire, he ain’t jokin' |
Now you first offenders are gettin’hit like predicates |
Goin’through the system just for standin’on the strip |
Gotta keep an open eye when it’s time to cop la From dirty ass deeds and unmarks ridin’by |
Home of the Originoo Gunn Clappaz |
And bank safe crackers |
Pot-pushin hustlers and everyday jackers |
When flauntin’get cautioned if you don’t ride with the right crew |
??? |
and bust off when they can front on you |
I still do Smoke buds with the thugs |
About to face the judge |
Show all my niggaz love |
I can’t knock the hustle, get your cream by all means |
Do what you gotta do to live, to feed you and your seeds |
Bucktown’s everywhere I see |
Representatives livin’nocturnally |
Break a day on the regular |
All night is all right with us As long as we can get rid of the red we get the better |
But never lose your head, just maintain |
Only use the cushion pain to ease your brain |
No strain |
When Tek and Steele bang |
Ain’t shit changed from birth |
B-C-C degrees, on to them other planes |
Fam |