Yeah, man the flavor, flavor
Yeah!
Ah yeah, who we doing?
[Chorus]
Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down [Repeat: x4]
Ninety-three comin' off with the flicks and the rough s***
Packin' n****'s kicks with black pits
Saber tooth, the truth, ha-coot! spit the juice
And let the hot-a**-lead-loose (*gun shots*)
Let it fly, betty-bye if you're ready to die
Kickin' your a** and you can ask Keith Sweat why
I make your Benz seem obsolete G
Rippin' your a** discretely, if you meet me
Puttin' bullets holes in tents, no fingerprints
You'll catch a slug in your a** while you jump the fence
Another young black man just caught a case
Not from "texa-mase", from gettin' funky like a staircase
[Chorus: x2]
(LL Cool J)
Yeah, what a scene, pullin' a Tech
With an extra magazine out the baggy-a** jeans
Wettin' up the block with mad Tech shots
Drop the glock, puttin' crackheads in headlocks
Like a cheetah with my dig-beaters
Ten millimeter, buck, buckn' you down from my two-seater
Rippin' s*** for the brothers who ain't here
Killin' bears and kickin' snitches right off the pier
Glock full of guts, steady buckin' b***s
Lettin' moonlight in your head-pull-puds
Def Jam in your a** for the jams
You've got posse, but are you nice with your hands?
[Chorus]
Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the [Repeat: x5]
Shakin' them up and the pickin' them up
Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the
Shakin' them up and the pick
[Chorus]
Draggin' you flower-a** rappers outta clubs
Thinkin' it pay too much, wet 'em like a dove
But in the slang, in the speech, in the style
Connect, can never be ripped by a suburban child
Gun smoke, bonanza on the block yeah
When all the s*** was dead, could of did a bid
Conferring emcee scramble, dismantle
Never gamble and try to handle a vandal
You'll catch a forty upside ya head with ya fake dreads
Tryin' to front like you're packin' lead
Dumb-dumbs are fine in a spiro
And now you got more beef than a jiro
Peep the balistic, kick, slick, quick
Flip a script-a-slips, but that ain't new s***
Burnin' ya crib down!
I'm frontin' personal, he's hearin' how a nine sounds
Busy-quizick, the ?disare? is in
Fizz up his li-life, the visits was borin'
[Chorus: x2]
Yeah!
Ah yeah, who we doing?
[Chorus]
Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down [Repeat: x4]
Ninety-three comin' off with the flicks and the rough s***
Packin' n****'s kicks with black pits
Saber tooth, the truth, ha-coot! spit the juice
And let the hot-a**-lead-loose (*gun shots*)
Let it fly, betty-bye if you're ready to die
Kickin' your a** and you can ask Keith Sweat why
I make your Benz seem obsolete G
Rippin' your a** discretely, if you meet me
Puttin' bullets holes in tents, no fingerprints
You'll catch a slug in your a** while you jump the fence
Another young black man just caught a case
Not from "texa-mase", from gettin' funky like a staircase
[Chorus: x2]
(LL Cool J)
Yeah, what a scene, pullin' a Tech
With an extra magazine out the baggy-a** jeans
Wettin' up the block with mad Tech shots
Drop the glock, puttin' crackheads in headlocks
Like a cheetah with my dig-beaters
Ten millimeter, buck, buckn' you down from my two-seater
Rippin' s*** for the brothers who ain't here
Killin' bears and kickin' snitches right off the pier
Glock full of guts, steady buckin' b***s
Lettin' moonlight in your head-pull-puds
Def Jam in your a** for the jams
You've got posse, but are you nice with your hands?
[Chorus]
Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the [Repeat: x5]
Shakin' them up and the pickin' them up
Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the
Shakin' them up and the pick
[Chorus]
Draggin' you flower-a** rappers outta clubs
Thinkin' it pay too much, wet 'em like a dove
But in the slang, in the speech, in the style
Connect, can never be ripped by a suburban child
Gun smoke, bonanza on the block yeah
When all the s*** was dead, could of did a bid
Conferring emcee scramble, dismantle
Never gamble and try to handle a vandal
You'll catch a forty upside ya head with ya fake dreads
Tryin' to front like you're packin' lead
Dumb-dumbs are fine in a spiro
And now you got more beef than a jiro
Peep the balistic, kick, slick, quick
Flip a script-a-slips, but that ain't new s***
Burnin' ya crib down!
I'm frontin' personal, he's hearin' how a nine sounds
Busy-quizick, the ?disare? is in
Fizz up his li-life, the visits was borin'
[Chorus: x2]