Lyrics Buck After Buck - Lord Superb, YOUNG CITY

Buck After Buck - Lord Superb, YOUNG CITY
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Buck After Buck, artist - Lord Superb
Date of issue: 15.10.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English

Buck After Buck

If the hood want me to stay
Then mention my name, and don’t push it again
If I rock, what, Perb’ll stay
Don’t mention his name and don’t push it again
Listen, soon as they left me out the cuffs, I jumped in something tough
It was buck after buck, and fuck after fuck
In the process, lotta money got touched
Lotta money got tucked, and that’s just how it was
I don’t talk to them, man, they fuck with the fuzz
And them niggas over there, man they fucking with drugs
Heard, cuz ain’t fucking with cuz, cuz he fucking with Blood
How he ain’t fucking with Blood?
Those niggas is blood
And that’s a fucking disgust
Like, back in the days when we was fucking with dust
And I’m big headed now, like who fucking with us?
I’m scared, I don’t know who the fuck to trust
They got hate-itis, they even hate our kids
We call 'em, funny dap niggas, quiet niggas around loud niggas
But the livest muthafucka in the herb house
You be a church mouse in Perb house, ya’ll heard?
Yeah, I heard you Perb, niggas aren’t worth our time
Far Rock America
Ah, all your fools, either you and your crew leaders
Wanna ride with me?
Nah, nigga, this a two-seater
Like a his and her, prick, and I spit superb
Ya’ll put an animal behind bars like a zoo keeper
Better than half you guys, raccoon, I black his eyes
Nigga don’t act surprised, you sweeter than apple pie
Listen, you luke warm, I’m hotter than last July
Haze put me in a 'different world' like Jasmine Guy
I’m in Club Duvet, you party at Chippendales
I drinks Grey Goose, you sippin' on Zinfandel
You can’t stomach me, you should drink ginger ale
I got 'em all sick, yeah, my flow is off the Richter scale
I’m the bomb, people, I’m incognito
Shout the price, you be 'out of sight' like Don Cheadle
It’s too late, I’m already here like a toupee
Fuck cake, nigga, this is souffle
And you know me, man, I had to get out here and tuck my shit
K City, G.O.A., Kitty Click, '09, it’s our time
Far Rock America, what up?

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