Dan the Automator, Da Poet - Buck Buck lyrics

Circumstances beyond our control

Livin' on the down low and
I represent the Shaolin deep
Where crazy bother's known for
Buckin' a nigga, so don't sleep
?one the ave? Watch the bodies pile
Ooh child you can't fuck
With my bloody murderstyle
I got you on a scope and
It's sharper than a knife
Feel the 9-mill rip it through your flesh
Taken life
Just another bitchass caught up in my warpath
Cut you right in half
Feel the wrath of a bloodbath
Mass destruction, try test my function
With the padamin I kicks the
Flavor into function conjunction
What's more to prove nigga? Hold op
My hoodyman crew know I got shit sewed up!
One for all and all for one
Some for me and my crew
But nigga you gets none
So check out my steez, I get over like a bear
Hoppin' door and rush hour lookin'
Out for the coppa
Watch what you do and kid it's
Over when my Glock pops and my crew rocks
Pack 'em in like a lunchbox
Sorry that your style's mad
Shitty like a diaper
You're just another victim of
The rooftop sniper

Buck buck buck yeah I let the lead out
Three-fifty-seven! Boom! I put his head out

I wanna know, can you feel it?
The Tech-9 rip
Because this be the season for
Catchin' a mac clip
I'm showin' you who's bigger
When I smoke a hell off niggas
Better recognize fool
When my finger's on the trigger
Go for the flow ho, just so you know
Punk niggas like you can't fuck with my flow
The buckshot, one buckshot two
By the time we let off three
There'll be no more you
Because the bulge in my pants
Ain't just a big dick every 4th of July
You're bussin' shots with my click
And that crew consists of my nigga Wrecker
But no, I'm the only bouncer, so love I
My brother
Big chop is on, I caught the storm
When I see a crazy cloud of
Meth comin' down like a hawk
And that can only mean Big
Sam is in the hallway
With a fat blunt, gettin' fucked up all day
Slow decept you, flex you, now we bust
Fuck if we must, because in Glocks we trust
Open up your eyes
Now you see your triggerstyle
Glocks pop up, nigga what now? ChickaPOW!

Buck Buck Buck yeah I let the lead out
Three fifty seven! Boom! I put his head out

Listen to my 9-millimeter go bang
Shells drop from the Glock
Now I know you can't hang
With the roughneck, hooligan
Oh, no not you again killin' mad force
No remorse when I do 'em in chose to oppose
Now you sleep with the fishes
Tech-9 dreams clock nineteen wishes
My hollow point tips gets crazy
Fat like a ham
Niggas try to play me out and I'll
Be damned if I don't blam
Step back, perpertratin' with the job
When it's time to survive
Cock back with the four five
On the streets sweeper
You met the grim reaper
Layin' six feet down
'cause it gets no deeper

Buck Buck Buck yeah I let the lead out
Three fifty seven! Boom! I put his head out