(feat. Don Poppo, Black Venom & Buddha Monk)
[Don Poppo, (Buddha Monk)]
(I'm your king, man, motherfuckers)
Some more true platinum shit
That's right, it's like that
Hittin you hardcore
Comin thru rugged and raw
You ain't ready, Buddha Monk
(We gon' grab you motherfuckers)
Poppo Don.. SUUUUUU!
(Soul ain't nothin, nigga what?)
You asked about me, here I am (what?), lights out (haha)
Poppo Don P the man that make you all chant
I flow to the method of the mic rush
Spit you germs like quick flush, no exodus
Trapped by the butter plush, ten second rush
Duff days to a hush, blow the spot till it bust
I spit weight that crush, niggas trust
Verbal torch your ass, the flesh turns to dust
Bet I make your bitch blush, bring her back
To the room sipping cognac, lick a dick in her sack (Hahahaha)
Roll the buddha blunts, I back straight stee
Give her the best nut I got then start bleedin
Leg selection, Donism voted for election
Penetrate the section, like a dick with infections
Brooklyn Zu nigga, don't know who you messin
Only time I'm calm's when I'm restin
[Chorus: Don Poppo]
It's the stormy days, killa ways, the war is on
Run for cover, Duck Low could strong arms
Infiltrate this rap industry by dropping bombs
So stay calm, and these few slugs won't do you mad harm
[Black Venom]
Yo, what's all the talk about?
Is it true that G.P. and B.V., don't care who?
Ready for war, set up strategies
Lift off light son, defy the laws of gravity
Let me talk to nickel chromes, bad to the bone
Spit dialect to freeze you cats stone
We hold down the fortline thoroughly
Fish niggas that be plottin in schemes to bury me
I'm look at, my third eye could light the whole world
As I talk shit and guzzle Henney hot till I hurl
Duck Low, blazin it hot, inferno
Fatalities, rippin this shit, you didn't know?
Come again, (come again) You murdered as one we all in
First by first, bu the ink leaking from my pen
Draw up vivid pictures to make a thug cry
Statements that falsify, look in the eye
Crooked pass, I could see it through the math
And it's about time y'all feel the wrath
Straight up
[Chorus]
[Buddha Monk]
Watch this seventh mic holder who come bashin down ya area
My avengence is a sword of Zu slang and your blood drip
How dare you wanna test those who rock shows? (That's us)
Knock down doors, but right to a bitch with the Moe'
And my challengers, only feel the cut of Excalibur
Now this target's erased, this G.O.D. took your space
You ask yourself what makes rain? What makes hail?
What makes snow? Leave you cold like Eskimos
It's that Brooklyn Zu flow, leave it alone, let it go
You're in a warzone, where most people don't make it home
It's the seventh wonder (wonder), I strike down like thunder
Punishin mc's on your own radios and TV's
So y'all look for me, I'm comin out in the year 2G
It's the Clash of this Titan, knock you out like Mike Tyson
I'm the Clash of the Titans, knock you out like Mike Tyson
Don't miss that you motherfucka!