No Frills

Buddha Monk

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    [Poppa Chief of Zu Ninjaz]
    Yo, yo, this some Zu shit!
    Yo, ugh! I know you want it, and I wanna give it. AH!

    [Chorus x2: Poppa Chief of Zu Ninjaz]
    I got this proposal I'ma slide across the table
    Mansions, cars, horses, stables
    Stocks and bonds, CDs and T-bills
    This time around, Zu strictly frills!

    [Buddha Monk]
    Yo, you act like the sun don't shine
    Then I decline and make that ass dumb, deaf and blind
    Watch this spittin logic, just aimin at yo' noggen
    Mind-bogglin, and damn right the Zu will smash somethin
    This verbal technique will soon be heard on every street
    Just watch yo' peeps and watch sure you niggaz don't sleep
    We defy the laws of gravity and burn thru yo' anatomy
    Watch us work this *echos*
    Three-hundred and forty pounds, this God will get down
    with verbal smacks, bustin gats, jiggin nines in yo' backs
    I don't play that, my silver spoon was bent way back
    Hate to say that, but that's the way it is when you black
    Not prejudice, but stay far away from six
    and I won't give even if my balls gets bit
    Stay reclined, never swine, twist the eighty-five wives
    We can wine, to make this station all one mind

    [Chorus x2]

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    [Buddha Monk]
    Warn this, awareness, I come like a terrorist
    Enter the bloodstream, beware, can you handle this?
    Disasterous, it is I, the one Lord and Master
    The Buddha's weight is made with gats and gun silencers
    Powerful thoughts increase, as I release
    the knowledge on my brain, and it's wicked like ten beasts
    It is not The Who, it's the old Brooklyn Zu
    Styles get raw like a Freakland Zoo
    Fix this, flows drillin in the banquet
    Buddha inflicts the hoes like Bake's existence
    I remain to cause pain, dirty words and slang
    Yo, you fuck with the Zu chain, ya headed for a headbang
    Walk down my path, ya head is what I'm after
    Save all those jokes and rhymes, no time for laughter

    [Chorus x2]

    [Buddha Monk]
    I warnin this to mind delinquents, with rap flows I speak frequent
    Ya body's cold niggaz and ya mind tolerance is low
    I like Brooklyn Zu done sole, first nigga thrown out the window
    Damn, thrity-two degrees below zero and it feels like a cold war
    There's never more gun totin, ha, backyard tree smokin
    The haren with tote nose, with love at first sight, eludin
    Bit pressure tester, yea, Zu mind collector
    Close your mind like Chester's so your body gets light like feathers
    Whatever, you think Zu disappear niggaz?! Ha, never!
    I'm like a cold mind with head lice, yo, diggin in ya sector
    I'm afraid for ya, we spread like the germ Gonarhea
    Fuck all you mamami's with no trace of pupmed water, see us
    In God we shall trust, grafted skin we never touched
    Flows like black dust, now think about God bust

    *sizzlin sound*

    (Oh, what a rush!)

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