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  • Prepare For The Buddha Monk (Letra)
    1. Prepare For The Buddha Monk (Letra)

      Popa Wu

      Popa Wu

      Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

      [hook: ol’ dirty bastard]
      Get prepared for the buddha monk
      You wanna get high? roll up the skunk
      Ladies and gentlemen..

      [intro: ol’ dirty bastard]
      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 niggaz try to say a rhyme
      They don’t wanna work through that shit
      Knawi’msayin? niggaz 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

      [hook 2x]

      [chorus 2x: 12 o’clock]
      It’s a buddha monk show
      Brooklyn zu niggaz smoked, high off a duck low

      [babyface finster]
      Nosy wails tales from a high plainz drifta
      Bounty killer, most wanted villain
      Dead or alive, to survive he 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
      Niggaz lovin hoes, lickin their toes
      I suppose you high from the candy, for the nose
      Niggaz is a joke, i take a toke of the la
      And all the botty boys go boom bye bye

      [chorus]

      [manley musa]
      If he fucked up
      These niggaz 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 its time for some pound to go
      Cock suckers, get they fuckin neck broke in my book
      Strike, if you don’t want to get hype then stay put
      Pop 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, you’re 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
      Cuz 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 teach hebrew to 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…)

      [buddha monk]
      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 c.r.e.a.m., rejoice in the land of the dreams
      Slide the poison in the weak germs, black babies turn to earthworms
      In holocaust you must learn, dis-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

      [chorus 2x]

      [shorty shit stain]
      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
      I can’t be tried, it’s 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 upped billy up like coccaine? you thought you could reign?
      But all you did was throw mad pain, like diamonds
      You could send 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 shitty
      And my zu rolls thick, floodin the country with massive hits

      [spiritual assassin]
      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 leanin heavy
      Spillin over the same path, from my mouth you fall last

      [drunken dragon]
      This is lyrical insanity and mandatory we bust
      All you so-called crazy niggaz 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?

      *scratching of the beat and beeping*

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