Nigga Wut... La-La

[Intro: Juice] Again? What the fuck? Uh-huh On the track, right? [Juice] Buddha and me, we the nicest, we don't need that ice shit Head from half dikers, jollies of all sizes No prize for second place, while I'm the hypest Haters came to cypher, mack 10's, I light ya Lay pipes since minors, game tight as plyers Ashtma, I'm still high in project risers Street kid disguisers, doorag crisis Timb construct stylist, rhymes run through ya houses Roof blown off, survive of the soon laws Bulletproof cocoon door, Brooklyn shoot the tools off I overheat excite bikes, one by the spine right Two hundred a seat, keep niggas on they feet Reach six feet of N speed, left that in the streets Understand my street speech, we be in on easy Grimey under shiesty, divided by greasy Highly flammable, burner, bust my attitude, b Not much to fuck with, don't press ya luck, kid Trust me, nigga, hey, you can do worst I have ya whole fucking family layed out in a hearse And I don't like guns nigga, better run nigga, go, go [Chorus 2X: Buddha Monk] La-la-la, la-la-la-da-la, laaa-ahh La-la-la, la-la-la-da-la, laaa-ahh La-la-la, la-la-la-da-la, laaa-ahh And if you don't know, now you know, nigga [Buddha Monk] What's this town represented by me? It's Brooklyn Bring the war on, niggas I suggest that you throw ya vest on I love this shit, settle nothing less than it Cap at you assholes, clack clack on you assholes Shit, you critics don't wanna see my clips or How many times I just flipped yo bitch It's a stick-up, stick-up! Don't ya get up, get up Now you know you done fucked up, right, right, right And you don't care if your quitters is mad at me I love to, walk the streets, carrying heat I love to, fuck with freaks in the back of the jeep I love to, bounce to a moet hit this on writer's sheet, let's go [Chorus]