black moon - powaful impak! lyrics
intro: buckshot
hey yo, this is straight up for all them n-gg-z out there
who fronted on some bullsh-t 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
n-gg-z 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 b-st-rd
you talk mad sh-t with no back up, what’s up, act up
you punk n-gg-z get smacked up, word life
you f-ckin’ with the wrong n-gg-
i f-ck too many on the mic, they call me daddy long trigger
mister buckshot, makin’ the gun hot
from n-gg-z that fiend to see my little -ss 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 sh-t is so fly, when i kick it, it’s absurd
d-mn, 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’ n-gg-z 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 n-gg-z, f-ck the rest
chorus
verse 3: buckshot
fee, to the fi, to the fo, to the funk
i pop junk and keep the b-mp in the trunk
puff the skunk and get high, oh lord
get on my skateboard and do a motherf-ckin’ driveby
you little crab -ss flea
biting my style, you know the original rudeboy is me
buckshot, no joke, smoke a n-gg- 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
n-gg-z get bucked down, b-tches 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
(-ssorted shout outs ’til end)
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