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buddha monk - who's there? lyrics
[intro: buddha monk (fung see u)]
(yo yo, f-ck that, these n-ggas talkin’ that bullsh-t out here, man)
(they b-tch n-ggas, man) yeah yeah yeah, don’t worry about it, fung
these n-ggas ain’t sayin’ sh-t, yo check this out (f-ck them n-ggas!)
[buddha monk]
this one right here i’ma throw down for y’all
just because i did that, don’t mean i care for y’all
brooklyn, n-gga, the town of biggie and jay-z
where both of them made money and now, of course, me
steppin’ up to bat, ya out before ya swung
i don’t have rap cyphers, i laugh at rap cyphers
what i need? i need to get in here and spit this quick
so i could get thirty thousand closer to get gettin’ rich
lampin’ on the island sippin’ hennessey and red
that’s just for a vacation, i’ma live b.k. ’til i’m dead
and f-ck bein’ iced out, i’d rather live in a nice house
with my seeds, could smell the sea and not worry about goin’ out
still bang, still sell them thangs
still clap at ya man, still first on ya man
it’s b.k., baby, and that was one take
{-beat kicks in-}
[intro 2: buddha monk]
yeah f-ckin’ young bucks
y’all can’t f-ck with us, n-gga
it’s team elite, what?
buddha monk, first see major, n-gga
[buddha monk]
make me elite off the team, n-gga, my blood dirty hungry
thirsty f-ckin’ h-rny for the love of this game
the streets ain’t my fame but it’s whole top aim
sell raw ‘caine, live, cry, die, change
and remember the name but you can’t you’re at aim
divin’ from them things, survivin’ from them things
whoa now, don’t get too c-cky, it might change
just cuz you with ya man, ain’t a d-mn thing changed
i glide for these rocks, re-up all my weed spots
and please trust, team elite ain’t far with the heaters
all we need is us, take g’s and bust, roll weed and puff
you sleep then indeed, god, you will trust
when i came in the door, i said it before
don’t make it a homicide, lay yo’ -ss on the floor
and brooklyn don’t care if y’all n-ggas is bad
and brooklyn don’t care if you die by my hand
it’s.. keep ya mouth closed, live life long
it’s.. it doesn’t matter who’s right or who’s wrong
it’s.. duc-lo, some n-ggas gettin’ it on
it’s.. duck five-oh, bust at them rascals
on the f.d.r. switchin’ lanes, bustin’ back, liftin’ the pain
you got one, did his man, dropped him, get around that van
well done, dunn, he stashed the car so they won’t find me
and trial me for any one of those brooklyn robberies
[chorus 2x: buddha monk]
who’s there? (n-gga, i don’t know, i don’t know)
who’s there? (n-gga, i don’t know, i don’t know)
[fung see u]
welcome to h-ll where cats survive off crack sales
where ya fifteen in the jail cell and can’t make bail
where there’s so much gunfire it’s foggy city
where cats release shots off a raw intensity
where motherf-ckers like to get dough, live low
to plough, pull motherf-ckers out their car window
my city dark and gloomy, ain’t no sunshine
unless you lookin’ down the barrel of a bl–dy–ss nine
pick up a package, on the mason dixon line
guided by the angel of crime, i’m in it through time
i’m not a role model, i just sip on forty bottles
with my n-gga rilo reminicisin’ about the apollo
the monument was shaped like a bullet that’s hollow
that’s why i envision myself never ever seein’ tomorrow
my n-ggas stretch from d.c. to brooklyn
when you hear “suuu!” you know who the f-ck’s in command
welcome to dodge city where the ex-mayor had a crisp hand
and wouldn’t serve a n-gga without, a bird in the hand
let’s go, the black commando, the inner-city rambo
leave hoods in shambles, who the f-ck wanna gamble?
we don’t talk where i’m from, we just, roll and get ’em
a bunch of n-ggas yellin’ “brrrr.. high high high-stick ’em!”
from b.k. to the d.c., my n-ggas keep it grimy
beef is where ya find me with a whole bunch of crimies
[chorus 4x]
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