[Verse 1: Buckshot]
I'm gettin the ahh, I'm gettin the ahh from the
Weak shit that I hear no lyrical styles come near
To the one who boasts like Buck
On the mic truck, 'cause I never gave a fuck
I hate the weak shit, man it be fuckin with my soul
I peeped how radio be trying to take control
Tellin me to get a little lighter on my lyrics
But if it ain't real on the mic I can't feel it
Straight from my bloodstream, I pump finesse
Nevertheless, hold it in your chest like stress
Rhythm and blues style is not in my environment
And when I "slowww dowwwn" it's time to take a hit
But until I fall off, call off your set
And if you never knew me, then you never knew wreck
Look inside of the mind and see
'Cause you might be trapped with a n***a like me

[Verse 2: Buckshot]
I feel like I'm trapped in the motherfuckin cave
To the rhythm I'm a slave, lookin in my grave
Jugular vein bustin out my neck, you see the rage
I move when I groove 'cause I'm into, the stage
Of the Buckshot, black, I'm bringin it back
To the roots, like Timberland boots, home on my rack
And I don't give a FUCK what you say
Commercial rap, get the gun clap, day after day
N***as don't play on the d low, kid you know my steelo
I roll on more n***as than cee-lo
We might just bumrush your set
Me AND my n***as on the real mic check
Like my n***a Smif gettin swift on the gift
Then I toss another lesson to my n***a Wessun
And my n***a Five from the tribe of Moon
Pass the Crooked I, bitch yo pass the boom
Whenever you're ready I'mma take you into the stage
Deep in the mind of a slave