Buddha Monk - Cuts To The Gut Lyrics
[intro: buddha monk, (shorty shit stain)]Yea, aight, yoWe just gon shut all these motha*****as up(for all yall gangsta motha*****as)Yea, that shit[shorty shit stain of brooklyn zu]It wasnt my fault you came outside without ya strap onTryin to get yo mack on and niggaz took oath of possessionShouldve rolled deep, get crooked by niggaz I creapAnd catch ya when ya least expect, the hard headFor those livin trife, it cuts like a knifeWho choose to play dice, who choose to play diceIts that, this one is a money makerMy album took that taker, I see ya nigga money and he stashinI caught that nigga and I had to quick reactAnd blast quick, nigga tried to front, he gonna laugh atThis type of style is hardcore, nigga tried to frontWhen he what? what? move on him, what?But ima hit him with my utmost shitIf ya cant bring death, then ya cant represent[chorus: buddha monk]Deadly is the slang from the brooklyn zuWhen we comin thru ya town, what ya niggaz gonna do?[dutch masta killa]Never carried steal, before ya got that dealBut now ya wouldnt have got it, so now ya puffin chronicTwo heads of drakness comin forth, there is manyBlind once or twice, then those heads become pennysMy swing is more deadly than a shot from yo gunYou see I swung once, but really I swung fourthJust be by yo vision, now yo shits on the floorShit like that, ya cant face with plastaSent niggaz back cuz I am the dutch mastaKill or pylon wack-ass styles in the mudMinds deep in heart, this is gold wit yo gutIts understood, oh he be someone you cant seeAnd that someone is me, too deep for you to believe>from the day of yo birth till ya ride in the hurseTheres nothin that happens that couldve been worseLet me free, atom bomb will be the final sequelWhich all men are cremated equal[buddha monk]Never war, come back on four tracksNiggaz wanna test the bees, ya must be wackNever more, actual factComin thru with the killa bees attackMy sword has the power to devour in any hourSlang cuts ya brains, now ya veins only hangMatter of sense, so I inflict the killa hitsDirty will assist with this mix, breaks mad shitTheres is no crew that can test the 1-12 crewDont let me go suu!, killa bees comin thruBreak the war with the great and it kills with the slicinI come with mad sins, Im the happy man againCome into my realm and I kill like the lizard palmCant prevail with the tails, now ya mind dwellsInto a dimension, no facts, only fictionWhos sent to this train has three sixes on their skin[dutch masta killa]Bloaw! little hare was good, was dippyThe wild-ass hippy who always packed the heaterLived the good life, was praised around, the hood lifeHe ran with his man from the second floorLivin happy, puffin on the staircase wallGreedy had a younger brotha, they both lived with mothaMotha had no fatha, they both held each othaAnd prayed for the otha, greedy saw the seatNever knew the feat, at nite he would creapWas still packin heat, the planned to catch a diggaGreedy caught the hiccups, one, two more, threeBut nosey got away, the eighty-fiver manYea, he still strayed away, the clean eddie faked itNo icepick or fist, glock or tech-nineHe contemplated this, caught in the shootoutHis man wanted his boot out, he was caught in a tranceHe has his mask, laid out past dawn, now mommas grave missed[outro: dutch masta killa, (odb)]Comin at cha from every type of angleYa know killa bees represent the bronxQueens, manhatten, all over this worldThe east coast, straight and downStraight out of clarksAnd all over everywhereMedina warriors(I love to hear the bees!)
