I got cha opin

( *DJ Evil Dee cuts up* )

(Don't front)

[ VERSE 1: Buckshot Shorty ]

When I get bent I must represent, no question

Get up a dime spot and then I'm off to the dread section

Roots hit me off lovely

Comin out the spot I had to duck because a nigga tried to buck me

I'm easin on the Glock like, "What up, hop"

Buck's pullin out on cops cause I want free Glocks

What the fuck, bring your bitch-ass type brigade

Hittin them all, hand guns and hand grenades

( ? ) man that's wanted for murder

Got your block locked down, so don't come any further

In my clip is a .22 dum-dum

Oh yeah, I seen your moms, I hit her off with a jum

Know what I'm sayin? Fret it or forget it

( ? ) fly so I'ma still get paid, I don't sweat it

I'm every MC's nightmare manifestin

A little shorty pushin the fact that I'm best in

This shit called hip-hop, raise the throne

Kid, don't front, I got you open in your dome

[ VERSE 2: Buckshot Shorty ]

Rest in peace to my niggas in the East

And all the real niggas that was shot by beast

Around the way all we do is spark mad ism

Ladies be like, "Yo, he's Buckshot right there, that is him"

But let's get with the cipher, kid, pass the eight

So I can wet my lungs and blow smoke in your face

Word to Jah, niggas can't touch me, kid

Cause I'm too nice to do bids or ever hit skid

Fronts in the bottom of my teeth like whatever shit

On the real, gettin played, what, I never did

Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real niggas

The field niggas get the muthafuckin ill triggers

Word to Herb, lick shot with my verb

And keep my hand on my grip when I play the curb

I never got caught by a undercover DT

( ? ) can't see me

You grab mics from the ones I left broken

Kid, don't front, you know I got you open

[ VERSE 3: Buckshot Shorty ]

Late at night I catch a buzz, then I write

The type of ill shit to make the mind feel tight

And be wantin to battle like every five minutes

But I'm in this like Guiness so that ass get finished

Straight from the floors of hell, feel the flame

You faggot ass, I heard your nickname's Blaine

I hit your brain and you felt the pain, maintain

When it comes to a battle you know the Buck reigns

I vocal-throw the flow, niggas be like, "Yo, how'd you do that?"

Bitches be like "Yo who that, you're all that, yo, true that"

Never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it

I used to make money, now I just take it

I do what I gotta do to bring you to the concrete

Buckin niggas down cause they think shit is sweet

I keep a Tec whenever I'm in the projects

Ease out, then flex, in effect like Wreckx

Buck to your head, now die is my slogan

Don't front, you know I got you open