12 O'Clock - Prepare for the Buddha Monk lyrics

[Hook: Ol' Dirty ba*tard] Get prepared for the Buddha Monk You wanna get high? Roll up the skunk Ladies and gentlemen.. [Intro: Ol' Dirty ba*tard] Yo, turn this sh** up, man Turn the mics open.. turn the mic up, man I want.. I want the mic.. I want the mic to shake The mic don't even sound good at all Man, what's up with that sh**? Each one of these n***as try to say a rhyme They don't wanna work through that sh** KnawI'msayin? n***as gotta learn how to feel that sh**.. If you're feelin with me, then you're dealin with filth If you can barely hear it then you need to go [Hook 2X] [Hook: 12 O'Clock] It's a Buddha Monk show Brooklyn Zu n***as slumped, high off at Duck Low [Babyface Fensta] Nosy wails tales from a High Plainz Drifta Bounty k**er, most wanted villain Dead or alive, to survive we strive off gun smoke I toke, the Colt forty-five Desert Eagle, rips through cerebral tissue The issue, gun slingin, drug dealin, four wheelin Appealin chicks, up jumps the bullsh** And it's a hit, a tale of two hoes Songs about clothes, need to be thrown out ya f**in window n***as lovin hoes, lickin their toes I suppose you high from the candy, for the nose n***as is a joke, I take a toke of the lye And all the batty boys go boom bye bye [Hook] [Chilli Black] Simply f**ed up These n***as spreadin rumors and get touched up By M three-eighty-oh, Musa on the low Get ya high with fly style, rugged profile With chuckers, you know its time for some pound to go Now s**ers, get they f**in neck broke in my book Strike, if you don't want to get hype then stay put Bop sh** like like liquid lips, spit like Mac's spit Burnin in whips, sippin and dip cops and sh** The God can't slip, I hold the weight above my shoulders Fake toasters get bust back and still in the holster [Lee-Major] Don't play this sh** backwards, it goes "MC's lack this" Deep in the corridors of the ghettos where I yap this Heads try to plot on this, kidnap us like slaves, du' Doggy, he's Wu, he's the brand new craze Young child misbehave on brand new styles that's bathed And addict was holdin black back in his earlier days I had badder days, that was better days and sk**s pays Still got laid, rollin on through these street trades Each corner is equality, baby, do you follow me? Diggin in the Crates to write this sawed off biography While your girl be hard, gosh in me, partially, properly Cuz you know the Gods be, I be new born to this, see? My mom's givin me a kiss and the first whif for me to Live off this and your sh** too Gods Ezekiel, do a due to live proof through My rhymes will be findin you, black will be designed you Dig into my chronicle, so I can unbondage you They let you see what they want you to But things is right in front of you [Ol' Dirty ba*tard] Ladies and gentlemen... [Buddha Monk] Yes, we leave your brain demented, these God-bodies invented A sk** of Resident Evil with no follow-up sequels My peoples, don't let the devil mislead you and beat you Wicked minds they feed through, sayin it here for the people It's unbelieveable, weak minds they retrieve through Schemin for the CREAM, rejoice in the Land of the Dreams Slide the poison in the weak germs, black babies turn to earthworms In holocaust you must learn to speak your devil terms Your mind is tapped like forgery and everything you say is watery What you ought to do genius is stop karma like Twelve Monkeys [Hook 2X] [Shorty sh**stain] I be the rap head and the mic's my pipe I'm about to get everybody high tonight You ain't had no cool sh** like this since '95 My Cuffie tribe is mad live, people do or die And I be comin with the good sh**, soundin like dope I know you smoke it, but you won't get high, off this note Have you up, really up like c**aine, you thought you could reign? But all you did was throw mad pain, like diamonds You could say I'm the lady's best friend And when it come to makin lyrics, I will represent Yo, climbin the charts like a cat I'm rollin with mad clips and gats I can't be stopped, like this is sh**ty City And my Zu rolls thick, floodin the country with ma**ive hits [G-Note$] Yo, the pictures you painted and paragraphs is half-a**ed A hard task to accomplish, I'm a full definition of sk**s Being impressive, one rhyme is selfish, it's known as relatives Objective and goal, make an emcee concentrate You're frustrated, when you examined Vocals' movin forward, with left and right pannin You're shootin tranquilizers, reach out as Spiritual touch This Brooklyn warrior walks with stab wounds to the gut You picked up twenty yards in rushin, menustrate Got hit, your backbone couldn't hold the weight sh** shift, like a burnt out clutch, position Twenty-two yard line, you're out of f**in commission I'm f**in up beats like Vodka from Finland, fatigue sh** is green And left them calm like they we're all ready My sh** is point blank period like a b**h bleedin heavy Spillin over the same pad, from my month, befall a** [Drunken Dragon] This is lyrical insanity and mandatory we bust All you so-called crazy n***as still get touched Son I thought you had sh** locked down, look around Manchuz took control of your stereo sound Plus the crown for the new found kings of this rap thing Victorious swing like Lo Han's, son no man could take what I start I keep the best for self, to get the poor part Plus the boot like Columbus, S.T.D. spread like fungus Touch hundreds, thousands, more than million Oh no we're four billions, our way of light shines through darkness I spark this track like lye, pop dukes was a gemini What's your sign?