Buddha Monk - Clack Clack lyrics

[Intro: Juice (Buddha Monk)] (Watch this) Talking sh**? Juice, Buddha Monk (Uh) The f**, what the f** (what the f**, n***a) Alright, ok, alright, let's go, yeah Come on my n***as (two of the greatest pirates) I'm bout to put y'all on, Buddha Monk Here we go (f** this til six in the morning) [Juice] I like gluey ice, chain like Kool G.'s twice Japanese shorty do me, naughty sushi night Blue jeans, gucci hair wrapped in a doobie ice Platinum ruby, cast in cream got her nice Y'all grab and squeeze booties, I get head in the bed Where the co-ed SUNY, Puerto Rican groupies do me Y'all lose me, not enough heat to catch up I'm already squeezin, y'all pickin' y'all gats up Don't get it twisted, act up, left in a casket Calculus professors can't even add my math up Too much hoes, never could be too much gold I poly with the crack, y'all n***as rap, I just flow I mastered that dough, life's a b**h, I hara**ed that hoe Young thugs, and I'm laughin' at po' After that dough, spit that action packed flow I'm still number one when I'm last on tracks, yo, I rock slow [Chorus 4X: Juice (Buddha Monk)] Understand black, when the gun goes clack clack I aim where ya hat's at, n***a, you ain't that phat (It's Brooklyn) [Buddha Monk] What the f** is this beef n***a? Then let's settle this sh** I was born a Dirty ba*tard when my daddy stuck dick I major in gun toting, bring your wack a** beat I silence the lamb that think that he want it with me My gun blazes four mics, nuff to bring all night Take on the nice souls, remove all you a**holes No need for Duck Low, you outer bug gets holes Clack clack the fo'fo, clack clack and make sure It's daddy warbuck, war for willing, armed and ready No mission big, no mission small, so f** all of y'all You cats think you rapping, kid, you better suit your happening Weak chicks, weak clips and also, weak dicks Ain't that a b**h, keep your game, run your sh** It looks better on my wrist, then it did you, b**h [Chorus 4X] [Buddha Monk] We used to play truth or dare consequences, now we play with pop getters Hard hitters, that'll shut down ya spot, n***a I'm not the same kid that used to cut in school halls Sex in back stairs, spittin' gum on walls I'm how that west was won, I left ya son Copped ten from yo show, break out with yo hoe And you probably thinking, he's not the best MC But it's best for your health that you don't mess with me, come on [Juice] Yo, give me the night, cuz I ain't had a good day in a long Right or wrong, I write bombs, entice the norm I'm precised informed, I'm bright, when the lights is on And a lot claim they hot, but they writing wrong And I really don't think these cats is ready Cause we type that fight with knifes, gats, bats and semi's Blastin' any, war wounds, splash on Henny And if you snatch by the enemy, then stash ya memory Cash and envy, n***a... [Outro: Buddha Monk (Juice)] Clack clack.... (savages) it's Brooklyn (all you n***a) Clack clack.... its Brooklyn Clack clack.... its Brooklyn Clack clack.... its Brooklyn