[Hook: Buddha Monk]
People are dying, trying to get in the mind of these Brooklyn Zu k**as
But they don't know, it's a cold, cold, world
[Shorty sh**stain]
Travel through the mind of a k**a, most k**as
Is like known gorillas
Dead man can't tattle tell, I'm hungry as hell
And the streets ain't feeding me well
k**as coming off, all shapes and forms
You even got they young ones packing big Guard U Nows
And wasting no round, kick, fast'll blow you down
They love the sound, you see how that sounds?
You got pops outside getting his grind on
Got moms in the kitchen, and she cooking with her nine on
And they teach the babies to be gangstas
Got little young one, just waiting to bank ya
n***as putting poison in drinks
So watch what you sip from, cuz it could be your last drink
Blame it on insanity
What posess a grown a** man to k** his whole family
Look at little Bernard Guess
He was on his way home, with the chrome
I guess it just be all a reaction, the n***a started blasting
Leaving fragments, on the third rail
I guess he just was going through some things
Cuz when the stick-up, he had to let his nine sing
[Chorus 2X: Buddha Monk]
It's a cold world, babe, it's a cold world, babe
It's a cold world, babe, oh, it's a cold world, babe
[12 O'Clock]
Let's make a motion picture, put Zu in a haunted house
Case of Olde Golde and cats wit Guinness Stoute
Forty bust these, n***a mouth laced up
Put the stakes up, lock the door, board the windows up
Handcuff, reach up, silverplate mixed with weed and dust
It's digital, sh** get critical
Trying to escape, but no way, we in the castle
Surrounded by a lake, alligators and rottweilers, no food to swallow
Naked b**h in the basement, it makes no sense
Paranoid, hearing wood from the floor making noise
Me and my boys, the bottom like basement
Don't like to be caged in, we k** a man
[Chorus 2X]
[5 Foot Hyper Sniper]
As I look into the mind of a k**a, I see a DC sniper
Teaching the youth, how to snipe ya
I Scott Peterson your wife, for the right price
Give out shots like Colin Ferguson
For no purpose, I'm like Timothy McVay
I'm blowing up buildings, I'm k**ing men, women and children
I know a Sicilian, his name is Al Capone
He get you hit in your home, by Frank Nitty
He get the job done, for a buck fifty
K, Martin Luther King Jr. will be here today
If it wasn't for James Earl Ray
Even Marvin Gaye's pops is a k**er
[Hook]
[Chorus 2X]