Fuck It Up

Black Moon

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    [Buckshot]
    Call me, hits and say jack, cause I get no punani
    Flippin' a script, leaving the sucker ducks behind me
    I'm a threat to poetry, you know it's me
    When you see brothers, running around, here now Duck Down
    Here comes the Buckshot Shorty
    Swingin' tracks, with more rhythm and blues then Berry Gordy
    Doing damage, when I vanish an MC, and picture the dream
    I'm a warrior, not Freddy Kruger Part Three
    Slap that wack shit, you can face your arraignment
    Life, I think you need some edutainment
    Try to slave my mind frame, you catch a spazasm
    Damn I feel good like a long awaited orgasm
    I blow up like a nigga who doing life in jail
    But failed, kick back and drink an L
    Yeah, I'm the man that control with this
    Run with a crew, and in my mind I'm a soloist
    I don't walk, but verbally break x
    That's why I got nuff respect, in this profession
    But all punk sucker ducks, still don't know the answer
    to the question

    [Chorus x2: Buckshot]
    How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)
    How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)
    How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)
    How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)

    [Buckshot]
    Here I come, with the mic in my right
    To get paid, plus raid the lime light
    For any MC, that's so called, gets the props
    I rock hip hop, non stop, to give nots
    I'm the man, the original
    Straight from Crown Heights, my life's subliminal
    Make my mark then spark, intellect, you'll find
    And give insight to the blind
    I manifest the best when I step through
    Five deadly styles, but I don't do kung fu
    Give me the tool and I go buckwild
    Bitches and niggaz on my dick because I'm versatile
    So if you bite, I'll ignite the dynamite
    Battle words, and battles gone, but I'm not that type
    But I get hype, when I write to a format
    Produced by Evil Dee, so now it's all that
    Watch your back, cause I attack
    And if you ain't down with Beatminerz, your
    wig-wig-wack

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    [Chorus x2]

    [Buckshot]
    Lyrical genius, mic Mr. Wonderful
    I grab the mic and make it turn like a run-do
    Known to poetic, to terrorize, listen
    This is a call to other mc's, time to televise
    A smooth black brother on the rap scene
    Doing my best to manifest to the fiend
    That I can finesse, and excel beyond any dope
    Guaranteed to turn the party out
    I light shit up like a professional mob hit
    No competition, cause the rest is garbage
    Yeah, I'm not the one to get played
    So back up off my dick, before I spark my renegade
    Lyrical melodies are chosen
    I revise the travel, cause the rest had 'em dozin'
    Off, I'm the boss, don't forget it
    When I rip it and stick it, manifest to the wicked
    And wow, I don't smile when I catch wreck
    Fuck the body blows, I'm going straight for the neck

    [Chorus x2]

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