Buddha Monk - Man Down lyrics

[I-Born] A small, step for man, b**h, throw the pitch I'm catching grams, check post What we roast, and leave scenes smelling like hot toast My thirst and sip flows, hot head With more lead left than peeled toes Gotta be, sloppy stops the boxing and rocked meat Ice tea, Tommy boxers, choking on a Hi-C Fresh like way up there, where inmates are pipe dreams On these streets, where it probably is, it must be Penalties, I'm at ease, I breath and touch dreams Speed and don't crash, ski with no slopes I plead with a judge and j**el reads Rule he sold dope, sold nope to a n***a for my yes yes ya'll Three four five six seven eight nine with it I win it, a one-two check ya'll, respect God And strip you where it hits hard Head nods, work a job that's above the law Pull up, way above the bar, broads love my scars Bruises, scrapes and squads Face concrete hard for money, with a smile Style and funny, ripped like jeans Bent up in 'em like crummy wear pawn Take it like a crash test dummy, cash first money The soldiers ammo, handle commando Jam on stereo, really From Dutch to Philly, all still feel me Like love for a n***a, make his a** wanna k** me Run your realty, spilling, top billing for the ghetto Say it loud, and let the sh** echo [G-Note$] Yo, n***as is fruity like a splash of pineapple Oranges and grapes, I don't f** with n***as that shake Looking from the project roof, the city looks pretty My city never sleeps, ears beauty weak Like you heard, the man got bodied over a b**h Like world puzzles, I connects with Musa and pay tribute to the street We recruit n***a and collect dough, triggers and sourveneirs Antique guns still spit, without dust anymore We bust 'em, I trust 'em, n***as ain't rolling with us f** 'em, we draw heat, only live n***as like me'll f** a b**h with the heat, I live what I speak and speak what I live What the f** these kids know about federali's You lollipop (lolli) lying a** n***a You don't move like a k**a (k**a) you don't talk like a gorilla (gorilla) You don't move like a stick-up n***a [Drunken Dragon] So I figure that I try to live right, but I ain't making you no promises You running off your mouth trying to be a street pharmacist Check 'em out, yo, the jig is about to hit Rock bottom, crack heads snitch and cops got 'em Taking 'em back up in the book, got 'em shook Caught 'em with a pound of coke and some of that was cooked This is why my n***a G wrote the Gunbook For all your hard headed and mentally dead crooks With them rhymes you kicking, your weak transmission No you can't claim what my team is dishing Get your ice and begets, your Moe's and Moet's But first I gotta tell ya'll n***as a secret [Lee-Major] Now you can play your distance, we hold our force down With Egyptian scriptures, carved in your mental With deep thoughts, we common sense you Lyrically hem' you, whoever sent you, getting bent to We extended like instrumentals, we make 'em Read the parental discretion, so advise yourself Put the wack raps, back in the shelf Your heart is in your feet, only be versatile is your beats You hold no weight, I slow chase, heavy mental Seven seven seventy heavenly sent you Something you don't have to pretend to, we been through sh** tighter than bonds, minds trynna see farther than Mars Far as these stars, just a few bronze Hold the weight of the earth on our shoulders Resurrected through time, behold the great mind soldier [Pooa] To all those I had beef with, I know you was possessed by the street kid Thinking that you sweet sh** The most humble n***as beat in your meat quick In front of po', dump f** that sneak tip Brooklyn cats don't roll precedures, ya'll dudes can seek and s** like leeches And chickens behind the bleechers Put me on the spot, you find me speechless Making power moves, time to sequence Even when I showered you, popping your ears like high altitudes Ladies, did take your kind for weakness Mistakes for b**hes, enabled to separate the difference Plus we enough, make my hitlist Ask anyone, Poo's who gave 'em business Finesse harder jobs than saving Christians Telling ya'll these days is ending, so save my henchmen Without a bogus motive, nothing here stated, the man basically told us With the k**uminati, I will wait, but soon will get bodied Kind of tired, rather suicide, put two in the shotty Spit til my heart contempt, while Diggs sparks the hemp No comments left, you marked for d**h