Uh uh, Whooo! Live!
Nation wide! No doubt (Yea)
The infamous Buckwild! Uh
(Check it out) Lord Finesse
Comin' at ya (Word up)
Check this out here
Here we go come on!
The dynamic, gigantic, large like the Atlantic
Damn it we represent, what others take for granted
That's Hip Hop, got shit locked on flip flops
Out to get props, the nine six Alfred Hitchcock
The same guy gotta maintain my remain fly
That's here to be, produced and arranged by:
Buckwild, Lord Finesse the double-header out to flip cheddar
Stars on the rise like Chris Webber
The wild team, my style is mean, out to pile cream
All we want is love and happiness like Al Green
The prescription from musicians that's non-fiction
Man listen, we're ahead (of) our time like the Egyptians
Hook
We get down for the Underground
So make way for the squad when we come to town
(when the squad come to town!)
We get around with the hellified sound
(Do ya thing kid)
Bust how the shit goes down!
In the eyes of the beholder
This high roller is natural like granola
The flyest soldier, born leader, like the Ayatollah
Check it out you can't outclass the God
I roll with a massive squad
We be fadin' niggas like acid wash
Thrive for knowledge, stay learnin', remain current
I got lyrics that'll boggle brain surgeons
I have to win, a hundred percent masculine
Standin' tall like Christopher Reeves before the accident
High caliber, confusin like algebra
Take out challengers quietly like a silencer
Miraculous dawn, out to reverse wrongs
When I perform, have ya clappin' and screamin like church songs
My ratio, I'm blowin' like Maseo, the crazy flow
(The greatest?) Maybe so
The mysterious elusive, live exclusive
By Buckwild and Lord Finesse I thought you knew this
(Hook x2)
The glorified go-getta, the low-figga (right)
When it comes to games, I throw no-hitters to gold diggers
(So what you know nigga?)
I'm so legit! I used to be a player
But now I'm on some coachin' shit!
Far from little known puzzle or riddle
Got handle on the dribble, mad flavor like skittles
Niggas be frontin', Y'all talk a good one
But can't stop the hoodlum that's cool and drop more jewels than muslims
The dictator with all the flavor
Call your neighbor this rhymesayer is far from small potatoes
I let my squad set it on niggas that's hard-headed
Come out ya face we be in ya grill like cosmetics
Best to dead it, or get crashed like a rented
By the genuine, authentic, black afro-centric
Soul brother, with mad clout, we gonna give a shout
To all the real niggas and we out
(Hook x3)
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