Fuck it Up

[Intro: 5 Ft. Accelerator, Sesame Street sample]

"Gee, I wonder who this poem is about..."

Brothers who Lyrically Act and Combine Kickin'

Music Out On Nations is comin' hard for the '90s

With the rugged and ruff shit

To all those who slept – 

You get the bozack! Check this...

[Verse 1: Buckshot]

Call me Dexter St. Jacques 'cause I gets the punani

Flippin' the script, leaving the sucker ducks behind me

I'm a threat to poetry, you know it's me

When you see brothers runnin' around, yellin' "Duck Down!"

Here comes the Buckshot Shorty

Swing the tracks with more rhythm and blues than Berry Gordy

Doing damage, when I vanish an MC

And enter their Dream, I'm a Warrior, not Freddy Krueger Part 3

Fuck all that clown shit, you can face your arraignment

Like – I think you need some Edutainment

Try to slay my mind and you'll catch a spasm

Damn, I feel good like a long-awaited orgasm

I blow up like a nigga who doing life in jail, for bail

Kick back and drink a ale

Yeah, I'm the man in control of this

Run with a crew, but in my mind, I'm a soloist

I go off, and verbally break necks

That's why I got nuff respect – in this profession

But all punk sucker ducks still don't know the answer to the question

[Hook: Black Moon]

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

[Verse 2: Buckshot]

Here I come, with the mic in my right

To get paid, plus fade the lime light

From any MC that so-called "gets the props"

I rock Hip-Hop, non-stop, forget nots

I'm the man, the Original

Straight from Crown Heights, my life's subliminal

Make my mark then spark – intellect, you'll find

It gives sight to the blind

I manifest the best when I step through

Five deadly styles, but I don't do kung fu

Give me the tool and I'll go buckwild

Bitches and niggas on my dick because I'm versatile

So if ya bite, I'll ignite the dynamite

Backwoods for battles, though I'm not that type

But I get hype, when I write to a format

Produced by Evil Dee, so now it's all that

Watch your back, 'cause I attack

And if you ain't down with Beatminerz – you're wik-wik-wack

[Hook: Black Moon]

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

[Verse 3: 5 FT. Accelerator]

Lyrical genius, mic Mr. Wonderful

I grab the mic and make it turn like a bun do

Known to poetically terrorize, listen

This is a call to other MC's, time to televise

A smooth Black brother on the rap scene

Doing my best to manifest to the fiend

That I can finesse, and excel beyond any doubt

Guaranteed to turn the party out!

I light shit up like a professional mob hit

No competition, 'cause the rest is garbage

Yeah, I'm not the one to get played

So back up off my dick, before I spark my renegade

Lyrical melodies are chosen

I provides the travel, 'cause the rest had 'em dozin'

Off, I'm the boss, don't forget it

When I rip it and stick it, manifest to the wicked

And wow, I don't smile when I catch wreck

Fuck the body blows, I'm going straight for the neck

Yeah...

[Hook: Black Moon]

Yo! Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)

Are we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up!)