Yeah, man the flavor, flavor Yeah! Ah yeah, who we doing?
[Chorus] Buck, buckin' 'em down, buck, buckin' 'em down Buck, buckin' 'em down, buck, buckin' 'em down Buck, buckin' 'em down, buck, buckin' 'em down Buck, buckin' 'em down, buck, buckin' 'em down
Ninety-three comin' off with the flicks and the rough shit Packin' nigga's kicks with black pits Saber tooth, the truth, ha-coot! spit the juice And let the hot-ass-lead-loose (*gun shots*) Let it fly, betty-bye if you're ready to die Kickin' your ass and you can ask Keith Sweat why I make your Benz seem obsolete G Rippin' your ass discretely, if you meet me Puttin' bullets holes in tents, no fingerprints You'll catch a slug in your ass while you jump the fence Another young black man just caught a case Not from "texa-mase", from gettin' funky like a staircase
(LL Cool J) Yeah, what a scene, pullin' a Tech With an extra magazine out the baggy-ass jeans Wettin' up the block with mad Tech shots Drop the glock, puttin' crackheads in headlocks Like a cheetah with my dig-beaters Ten millimeter, buck, buckn' you down from my two-seater Rippin' shit for the brothers who ain't here Killin' bears and kickin' snitches right off the pier Glock full of guts, steady buckin' butts Lettin' moonlight in your head-pull-puds Def Jam in your ass for the jams You've got posse, but are you nice with your hands?
Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the [Repeat: x5] Shakin' them up and the pickin' them up Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the Shakin' them up and the pick
Draggin' you flower-ass rappers outta clubs Thinkin' it pay too much, wet 'em like a dove But in the slang, in the speech, in the style Connect, can never be ripped by a suburban child Gun smoke, bonanza on the block yeah When all the shit was dead, could of did a bid Conferring emcee scramble, dismantle Never gamble and try to handle a vandal You'll catch a forty upside ya head with ya fake dreads Tryin' to front like you're packin' lead Dumb-dumbs are fine in a spiro And now you got more beef than a jiro Peep the balistic, kick, slick, quick Flip a script-a-slips, but that ain't new shit Burnin' ya crib down! I'm frontin' personal, he's hearin' how a nine sounds Busy-quizick, the ?disare? is in Fizz up his li-life, the visits was borin'