Black Moon Powaful Impak!
Intro: Buckshot Hey yo, this is straight up for all them niggaz out there Who fronted on some bullshit in the beginning, f..ck dat (some reggae shouting) Verse 1: Buckshot Blaaaww! Here comes the Buckshot Shorty I kill black real, so guard your grill like naughty Niggaz call me Jeffrey Dahmer, why I'm quick to bombercars That f..ck your armor, cause I cause mad trauma No comma, straight through your mama like acid I f..cked her, then I did it, that's why you's a little bastard You talk mad shit with no back up, what's up, act up You punk niggaz get smacked up, word life You f..ckin' with the wrong nigga I f..ck too many on the mic, they call me daddy long trigger Mister Buckshot, makin' the gun hot From niggaz that fiend to see my little ass rot Peep my style, check my level I'm so hot, I shot a f..ckin' fair one with the devil Booyakya!, watch your back, grab your f..ckin' gat Here come brothers who are ready to act Chorus: [samples of Busta Rhymes] [Powafal Impak] 4x Boom!! [the cannon] (Repeat) Verse 2: Buckshot Some pack a mac, I choose to pack a black 22 By my waistline, buckin' your whole crew I step through, and represent Black Moon First, before I kick a verse, I puff a bag of boo Lyrically I freak your funk you never heard My shit is so fly, when I kick it, it's absurd Damn, how I wrecked your life with one record Made your crew break up and girl get naked Respected, because I work hard for my cash Shakin' more flavor then Mrs. Dash Look out below, my flow will hit your brain I got dough, but I still hop the train I'm bustin' niggaz open, Attica style Yo, straight to the jugular, brother you're mad foul Gimme dat, because I rock with the best Yo, peace to the hardcore niggaz, f..ck the rest Chorus Verse 3: Buckshot Fee, to the Fi, to the Fo, to the Funk I pop junk and keep the bump in the trunk Puff the skunk and get high, Oh lord Get on my skateboard and do a motherfuckin' driveby You little crab ass flea Biting my style, you know the original rudeboy is me Buckshot, no joke, smoke a nigga like buddha Who the f..ck you think you playin' wit Yeah, I'm sayin' it Cause I want beef, for you can hang here right Yo, sometimes I wonder how the f..ck you get a mic But I don't sweat that, cause I 'm still paid Niggaz get bucked down, bitches get sprayed I do what I want, just so I can make loot If it's an eagle, pack the gat son You know how we do, true Chorus (Assorted shout outs 'til end)