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Buckin' Chords
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[Verse 1] [Dm]This shit is dedicated to my dirty thug brother, Adam Anderson, aka Xanax the Clown. He passed away yesterday. Stack Mack, Cracker Valley, Grave Plot, Liquid Assassin, Killer C. Let's get up. My people wait for a signal for me to give them the get going and they put the pistol out the window. Buzz it you can't focus, it's too late to get low. After the shit that's been spoken, we gon' cut through that motherfucker, leave everything I'm provokin' a pound in the choke in the town I was blowin' that purple when you was smokin' that brown I make phone calls to road dogs that do what I say You cross a line, now you mine, homie, you gotta pay Oh, by the way, we leavin', you leakin', your family grievin' You just bleepin' and bleepin', they told your daughter you sleepin' But even she didn't believe him Tell him he popped shit and got that ass killed Cause that's real, fuck it with the pale faced boys that had you boxed up and measured Chopped up and dropped in the desert So think before your stupid ass start poppin' that noise You fuckin' with Stack Mack and them Greyblock boys We big in the bucket and bitches you witness Some shit that was none of your business and then you with the mortician And if you end up on the shit list we gon' give you the fitness And ain't nobody on the team sleepin' till the shit's finished We big in the bucket and bitches you witness Some shit that was none of your business and then you with the mortician And if you end up on the shit list we gon' give you the business And ain't nobody on the team sleepin' till the shit's finished, uh I'm a street monster, retreat your roster Weak fleets get chopped up, we speak with shotguns Lead streets, your car can keep sleep with garbage Heat speaks, no problem, heat beats, regardless Fallin' semi -automatic and I'm blastin' Maddox and taggin' em Passin' traffic, we laggin' em, wrapped in plastic, we draggin' em But, I keep it proper with pistols in my bandanas Took a fall from the 8, but I can feed you bananas Stag on the track, it's a fact, you get clapped with a strap And crack goes to Mac in a Mac 11 Gon' blast, lay you on your backpack And I attack for the fact that a counterattack could react Get me trapped cause the gag put me in a black sack Cross my path or disturb my vision, my palms start itchin' Grab that burger, bomb y 'all kitchen, y 'all birds are grippin' Man, we biggity buck y 'all bitches, whole industry gon' feel me infested with all my sickness We big in the bucket and bitches you witness Some shit that was none of your business And then you with the mortician And if you end up on the shit list We gon' give you the business And ain't nobody on the team sleepin' till the shit's finished We big in the bucket and bitches you witness Some shit that was none of your business And then you with the mortician And if you end up on the shit list We gon' give you the business And ain't nobody on the team sleepin' till the shit's finished Stress and depression with every breath that I'm breathing I got your ass bleedin' with your best bitch leavin' I'm a pirate I'm confiscatin' your shit It'll take nuclear weapons to sink my ship I ain't no bitch, but you gon' be my punk If you need to take a nap, go and sleep in the trunk We don't take kindly to bullshittin' women Talk ya actin' like a prostitute, go and get yourself some cock A pine box is made for bodies in the street A corpse on the low gets a whole six feet Am I gonna die? sir, it was a final decision But I can't take it back, it's just the life that I'm living I do what I do, just to get by The dealers are supplied and the fiends stay high A monster was born from the soul of a young boy Sit back and listen while I click -clack my toy You think you're the marketed bitches you witness Some shit that was none of your business And now you with the mortician And if you end up on the shit list We gon' give you the business And ain't nobody on the team Sleep until the shit's finished, uh We big in the bucket and bitches, you witness Some shit that was none of your business And then you with the mortician And if you end up on the shit list We gon' give you the business And ain't nobody on the team Sleep until the shit's finished, uh We buckin' at bitches, fillin' them ditches Grave plot was stacked, now your exit was stitches Now your exit was stitches Now your exit was stitches Now your exit was stitches Now you're next to the stage Now you're next to the stage Now you're next to the stage
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