[Intro: Juice (Buddha Monk)]

(Watch this) Talking shit? Juice, Buddha Monk (Uh)

The fuck, what the fuck (what the fuck, nigga)

Alright, ok, alright, let's go, yeah

Come on my niggas (two of the greatest pirates)

I'm bout to put y'all on, Buddha Monk

Here we go (Fuck 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 niggas rap, I just flow

I mastered that dough, life's a bitch, I harassed 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, nigga, you ain't that phat (It's Brooklyn)

[Buddha Monk]

What the fuck is this beef nigga? Then let's settle this shit

I was born a Dirty Bastard when my daddy stuck dick

I major in gun toting, bring your wack ass 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 assholes

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 fuck 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 bitch, keep your game, run your shit

It looks better on my wrist, then it did you, bitch

[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, nigga

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, nigga...

[Outro: Buddha Monk (Juice)]

Clack clack.... (savages) it's Brooklyn (all you nigga)

Clack clack.... its Brooklyn

Clack clack.... its Brooklyn

Clack clack.... its Brooklyn