[Intro: Buddha Monk] Test, uh, Daddy Warbucks Lexus, Ranger, Benzes, Beemers Big boy suburbans, twenty five, Jesus [Buddha Monk] Brooklyn's journalist, yeah, you heard it right The east street talker, I can be heard tonight Not the type for 9 to 5, I prefer the dice Not the type to fight, I prefer the life I did alot of wrong, maybe a little right Will the lord forgive, or is the bible hype I serve food for thought, everyone's life to the fight While I'm serving, I emerge a serpent I get to talk about, nines and cursings Swerving, as it was all club bunnies and thirsting? It ain't funny, dog, the money got 'em hurting And they telling all they friends, that I'm a bad person? At night, I'm like Jamaicans, how I jerk chicken Dirt Diggiler, stickin' b**hes, n***as ain't getting I'm so amazing, papa When I spark the blunt, it's fake and blucka-blucka [Chorus 3X: Buddha Monk]
I'm ready to do this, where them hoes at? Don't want excuses, where the dough at? Lexus, Ranger, Benzes, Beemers Big boy suburbans, twenty five, Jesus [Buddha Monk] Now the D-A Double D-Y, for the Daddy and I War is fully armored and ready to die Bucks is for b**hes, Mo's and clubs Get in my way, dog, and I'mma f** you up It's not that easy to get, whose off the heezy See me, dog, I dip your pockets if need be To sum it up further, I should change my name to murder You franchise my name on pants, shirts and sweaters I'm like EZ Pa**es, run straight through them a**es Clip after clip, making coogie sweaters drip So the next time ya'll n***as trip, ya'll better think before ya'll get A whole heap of trouble that'll get your a** dead, n***a [Chorus 2X] [Outro: Buddha Monk] Ah, oh my God, this look like another hit Another hit...