Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Buck-Buck, artist - Das EFX.
Date of issue: 31.12.1969
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Buck-Buck |
So all rise for your honour, spark your lies, mark your drama |
Now I’m stronger, and I’m faster, thicker than your plaster |
I’ve got more styles than most MC’s can master |
I’m (what?) D-wilin, (what?) freestylers (what what??) regardless |
Beatin me is like the Bills beatin Dallas |
Keep them shorts for the midgets, there! |
I be the shit, it |
And plus I light that ass up like the numerical digits |
In my (beeper), cos we throwin niggas in the (sleeper) |
I’m dazin you like (ether), more hoodies than the Grim (Reaper) |
Be on you every way, my style; |
it ain’t the everyday |
It’s better, we’re sayin shit that other niggas never say (kid) |
Kickin the flows (what?) that make your toes wanna tip (tip) |
I used to be a wheel watcher til I got my whip (whip) |
You see I walk with a (bop bop), I talk with the (slop slop) |
I’m hittin you like six pool balls in a sock (sock sock) |
It’s the abortion, because I’m launchin, quick to floor shit |
Click-click, now I’m on some Quick Draw McGraw shit |
Porsche shit, now Dice bring it back on the steel |
Alright we get the busters, smoke blunts out the mill (yeah) |
Chrous: |
So get the buck-buck (here) |
And the buck-buck (there) |
From the front to the (rear) |
Throw your hands in the (air air) |
With a buck-buck (here here) |
And a buck-buck (buck here) |
From the front to the (rear) |
Throw your hands (in the air) |
With a buck-buck (here) |
And a buck-buck (there there) |
From the front to the (yeah rear) |
Throw your hands (in the air) |
With a buck-buck (here here) |
And a buck-buck (there there give em) |
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah (From the rear, throw your hands in the air, yeah) |
Well yo, the one is for my nuts (uhh), the two is for my penis (penis) |
See I can rock this microphone (yeah) from here to fuckin Venus |
Boy, I mean this, you’ve never seen this because you’re corny (corny) |
I’m sleepin on ya raps, I’m drinkin (yeah) nass because you’re foamy |
Wit that weak shit, I freak shit like I’m suppose ta (yeah) |
Try to test my skills, word is bond (motherfucker), I’m gonna roast ya |
(yeah) |
I do this, they be like «Who dis?» |
(who dis?), I break the answer (answer) |
Krazy fuckin Drayzie on the mic (yeah), I spread like (cancer) |
So peep it (yeah) cos I’mma keep it straighter than an arrow |
Niggas on my jive (why?) because I rock like a Camaro |
I’m back to rip the track, so black you best to check the flow (flow) |
Some niggas wanna copy but they’re soppy like Joe (yo) Joe (yo) |
How I rip the shows? |
On the nightly (nightly) |
Tell y’all niggas now there ain’t a motherfucker like me! |
(Aiight, b?), I’m slightly in the mood so watch me wreck shit (yeah) |
Check shit, I be on some new improved (next shit) |
I flex shit, that’s the way I flip it on a angle |
You knows who I are, wear my star like the spangled |
Banner, bust the grammar, but I bring forth my knockers |
If it ain’t hip-hop, (aiyyo) |
Well then it gotta be some rockin (BOW! BOW! BOW!) |
I’m nicer than you think, so don’t blink, you’re gonna lose me (lose me) |
And if ya didn’t know, word bond (This is why my nigga choose me) |
So give a buck-buck |
And a buck-buck there |
From the front to the (rear) |
Throw your hands (in the air) |
With a buck-buck (here) |
And a buck-buck (there) |
From the front to the (rear) |
Throw your hands in the air |