Text:
Buck O Nine Tool

fast and clean in his rhythm machine he goes down to the beach but little does he know the girls down there are out of his reach he has a good time

blast back, cause blast back best They got me runnin' from the five O Duckin' and dodgin' in my survival The Benzo and I let off with my nine, hoe I'

through the rivals (Fuck them enemies) It's been said we living suicidal It's like rush at eleven placing bucks on your bet Do your thang slang cane and get your bucks

empty out on you, in sync like the SMPTE output on the MPC 2002 We be housin' crews, plus we housin' fools In abandoned apartments with a thousand tools Crazy shootin' dudes buck

But the book is wider and its a lot more pages The game changed, people got foul And the same little church boy is buck wild Runnin' wit my homeboys from three three nine

Shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, ah yeah Talkin' like that'll have 'em all scared Don't come to me with no petition Fool, come to me with ammunition 'Cause the bang, bang, buck, buck

me, but if I die bury me a motherfuckin G A open casket on them bastards so they all remember me With my vest on my chest, my tools and my piece Thug

street from the staples centers where they hack-a-shack Give the advance money back I am not have to rap Break Harry-O out tell him crack is back That's nine

went soft, cause my records went gold (Sucker) Buster, you'se a - muthafuckin punk fool Caught you in your eye while you reached for your tool Now it's mine, and you're blind Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop goes the nine