Prepare for the Buddha Monk

Get prepared for the Buddha Monk
 You wanna get high? Roll up the skunk
 Ladies and gentlemen...
 Yo, turn this shit up, man
 Turn the mics open... turn the mic up, man
 I want... I want the mic... I want the mic to shake
 The mic don't even sound good at all
 Man, what's up with that shit?
 Each one of these niggas try to say a rhyme
 They don't wanna work through that shit
 KnawI'msayin? Niggas gotta learn how to feel that shit...
 If you're feelin with me, then you're dealin with filth
 If you can barely hear it then you need to go
 It's a Buddha Monk show
 Brooklyn Zu niggas slumped, high off at Duck Low
 Nosy wails tales from a High Plainz Drifta
 Bounty Killer, most wanted villain
 Dead or alive, to survive we strive off gun smoke
 I toke, the Colt forty-five
 Desert Eagle, rips through cerebral tissue
 The issue, gun slingin, drug dealin, four wheelin
 Appealin chicks, up jumps the bullshit
 And it's a hit, a tale of two hoes
 Songs about clothes, need to be thrown out ya fuckin window
 Niggas lovin hoes, lickin their toes
 I suppose you high from the candy, for the nose
 Niggas is a joke, I take a toke of the lye
 And all the batty boys go boom bye bye
 Simply fucked up
 These niggas spreadin rumors and get touched up
 By M three-eighty-oh, Musa on the low
 Get ya high with fly style, rugged profile
 With chuckers, you know it's time for some pound to go
 Now suckers, get they fuckin neck broke in my book
 Strike, if you don't want to get hype then stay put
 Bop shit like like liquid lips, spit like Mac's spit
 Burnin in whips, sippin and dip cops and shit
 The God can't slip, I hold the weight above my shoulders
 Fake toasters get bust back and still in the holster
 Don't play this shit backwards, it goes "MC's lack this"
 Deep in the corridors of the ghettos where I yap this
 Heads try to plot on this, kidnap us like slaves, du'
 Doggy, he's Wu, he's the brand new craze
 Young child misbehave on brand new styles that's bathed
 And addict was holdin black back in his earlier days
 I had badder days, that was better days and skills pays
 Still got laid, rollin on through these street trades
 Each corner is equality, baby, do you follow me?
 Diggin in the Crates to write this sawed off biography
 While your girl be hard, gosh in me, partially, properly
 Cause you know the Gods be, I be new born to this, see?
 My mom's givin me a kiss and the first whif for me to
 Live off this and your shit too
 Gods Ezekiel, do a due to live proof through
 My rhymes will be findin you, black will be designed you
 Dig into my chronicle, so I can unbondage you
 They let you see what they want you to
 But things is right in front of you
 Ladies and gentlemen...
 Yes, we leave your brain demented, these God-bodies invented
 A skill of Resident Evil with no follow-up sequels
 My peoples, don't let the devil mislead you and beat you
 Wicked minds they feed through, sayin it here for the people
 It's unbelieveable, weak minds they retrieve through
 Schemin for the CREAM, rejoice in the Land of the Dreams
 Slide the poison in the weak germs, black babies turn to earthworms
 In holocaust you must learn to speak your devil terms
 Your mind is tapped like forgery and everything you say is watery
 What you ought to do genius is stop karma like Twelve Monkeys
 I be the rap head and the mic's my pipe
 I'm about to get everybody high tonight
 You ain't had no cool shit like this since '95
 My Cuffie tribe is mad live, people do or die
 And I be comin with the good shit, soundin like dope
 I know you smoke it, but you won't get high, off this note
 Have you up, really up like cocaine, you thought you could reign?
 But all you did was throw mad pain, like diamonds
 You could say I'm the lady's best friend
 And when it come to makin lyrics, I will represent
 Yo, climbin the charts like a cat
 I'm rollin with mad clips and gats
 I can't be stopped, like this is Shitty City
 And my Zu rolls thick, floodin the country with massive hits
 Yo, the pictures you painted and paragraphs is half-assed
 A hard task to accomplish, I'm a full definition of skills
 Being impressive, one rhyme is selfish, it's known as relatives
 Objective and goal, make an emcee concentrate
 You're frustrated, when you examined
 Vocals' movin forward, with left and right pannin
 You're shootin tranquilizers, reach out as Spiritual touch
 This Brooklyn warrior walks with stab wounds to the gut
 You picked up twenty yards in rushin, menustrate
 Got hit, your backbone couldn't hold the weight
 Shit shift, like a burnt out clutch, position
 Twenty-two yard line, you're out of fuckin commission
 I'm fuckin up beats like Vodka from Finland, fatigue shit is green
 And left them calm like they we're all ready
 My shit is point blank period like a bitch bleedin heavy
 Spillin over the same pad, from my month, befall ass
 This is lyrical insanity and mandatory we bust
 All you so-called crazy niggas still get touched
 Son I thought you had shit locked down, look around
 Manchuz took control of your stereo sound
 Plus the crown for the new found kings of this rap thing
 Victorious swing like Lo Han's, son no man could take what I start
 I keep the best for self, to get the poor part
 Plus the boot like Columbus, S.T.D. spread like fungus
 Touch hundreds, thousands, more than million
 Oh no we're four billions, our way of light shines through darkness
 I spark this track like lye, pop dukes was a gemini
 What's your sign?