[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...