Buddha Monk - It's a Stick Up lyrics

[Intro: Buddha Monk (Courvoisier)] Yo aiyo.. (This sh** is rockin) Yo I think you need to address them cats out there You heard? (Understand me) Two of the best that ever done it (Real n***as rock steady) The Zu (and Buddha Monk, of course n***a) [Courvoisier] Yo since you talk a good game, walk a good game When it come time to bang, you the first I'ma hang Elizabethan f**in and f**in Aunt taught me how to box To throw a punch and hit the right spot Knew you had a gla** jaw, heard y'all broke it Opened ya mouth but wasn't sharp enough to show it You know it, don't take much but about a half an ounce of pressure Respect life cuz it's precious Time is forever, flesh is born to rot Over night knock n***as straight to the top I'm in the spot where cool n***as tend to lose it And free music, thank you, write then prove it Knuckle up, slug, or even go round for round Throw pound for pound, stand ground for ground c*nt, wrapped like a swoll from a fable Better watch where you trip or you gon land on the table [Chorus X2: Courvoisier] It's a stick up, lay on the ground Get ya face down (Says who?) Says this mothaf**in fo' pound You gettin balls? Think I'm bluffin? Matter of fact, just for shootin rocks, one in ya face I'm pluggin [Buddha Monk] It's official, this rap here, burned through the eye tissue It's the last rowdiest n***a, pack the gat n***a My team's scheme flow through streams of rap fiends Spread out through high beams, terrorizin rap scenes Look what we got here, I've faced the d**h, stop, look and stare At this n***a who's been hungry and livin this sh** for ten years Knowin that the sharp blade cuts through yo' setback Counter react, ya wack raps, snap the gat back Yo ya players, ballers, pimps and all hustlers When I'm finished throwin verses you'll know who shot ya It's the master of Art of War, tearin down predators What's the cause? sh**, it ain't true slang no more [Chorus X2] [Courvoisier] Aiyo n***as chirp about it but then ain't ready I'm common law with the mic so we can omit the weddin Reception, you bang everyday through ya speakers With ya best man merkin shots of Tequila Gold brown n***a 'til I piss white Far from the type to push off a rhyme with a splice Grinch lung spitter, get ya winch strong Cuz spent diaphragms last long [Buddha Monk] It's a pa**ed laws, a hydro form, a rap Stella Lyrically prone to transform black forms into stretchers Is this your fate? Oh, you think it's never? Know where you sleep at, eat at, you better brush ya teeth at You better believe that, where yo weed at? You gonna need that Before me and my n***as see that, ya brain is where ya bleed at Yo did you peep that? It ain't nothin to me when we meet that It ain't nothin to me when we meet that [Chorus X3] [Outro: Courvoisier] It's a stick up...