DAS EFX


Buck-Buck Lyrics

*Skoob and Dray giving shoutouts*

Chorus:

Well give a buck-buck (here)
and a buck-buck (there)
From the front to the (rear)
Throw your hands (in the air)
*repeat x3*

Verse 1: Skoob

Ding! Back in the ring yo it's the tag team jams (yeah yeah yeah)
So all rise for the honours balk, your lies mark your drum
Now I'm stronger and I'm faster, thicker than your pasta
I got more styles than most MC's can master
I'm (what?) D-wilin, (what?) three stylin (what what??) regardless
Beatin me is like the Bills beatin Dallas
Keep them shorts fro the midgets, there! I be the shit, it
and plus I light that ass up like the numerical digits
in my (beeper), cos we're throwin niggas in the (sleeper)
I'm dazin you like (etha), more hoodies than the (Grim Reaper)
Be on you everywhere, my style it ain't the everyday
It's better, we're sayin shit that other niggas never say (kid)
Cookin the flows (what?) to make your toes wanna tip (tip)
I used to be a wheel watcher til I got my whip (whip)
You see I walk with a (bop bop), I talk with the (slop slop)
Man, you like six bull balls in a slot (slot slot)
It's the abortion, son I'm launchin, quick to floor shit
Click-click now I'm on some Quick Draw McGraw shit
For shit, now Dice bring it back on the seal
Alright we get the busters, smoke blunts out the mill (yeah)

Chrous:

So get the buck-buck (here)
and the buck-buck (there)
From the front to the (rear)
Throw your hands in the (air air)
With a buck-buck (here here)
and a buck-buck (buck here)
From the front to the (rear)
Throw your hands (in the air)
With a buck-buck (here)
and a buck-buck (there there)
From the front to the (yeah rear)
Throw your hands (in the air)
With a buck-buck (here here)
and a buck-buck (there there give em)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah (From the rear, throw your hands in the air, yeah)

Verse 2: Dray

Well yo, the one is for my nuts (uhh), the two is for my penis (penis)
You see I can rock this microphone (yeah) from here to f*ckin Venus
Boy, I mean this, you've never seen this because you're corny (corny)
I'm sleepin on ya raps, I'm drinkin (yeah) nass because you're foamy
wit that weak shit, I freak shit like I'm suppose ta (yeah)
Try to test my skills, word is bond (motherf*cker), I'm gonna roast ya
(yeah)
I do this, they be like "Who dis?" (who dis?), I break the answer (answer)
Krazy f*ckin Drayzie on the mic (yeah), I spread like (cancer)
So peep it (yeah) cos I'ma keep it straighter than an arrow
Niggas on my jive (why?) because I rock like a Camaro
Back to rip the tribes so pack your vest, so check the flow (flow)
Some niggas wanna copy but they're soppy like Joe (yo) Joe (yo)
How I rip the shows on the mic (nightly)
Tell y'all niggas now there ain't a motherf*cker like me!
(Ya hype be), I'm slightly in the mood so watch me wreck shit (yeah)
Check shit, I be on some new improved (neck shit)
I flex shit, that's the way I flip it on a angle
You knows who I are, wear my star like the spangled
banner, bust the grammar but I bring forth my knockers
If it ain't hip-hop (aiyyo)
well then it gotta be some rockin (BOW! BOW! BOW!)
I'm risin in your ???? and corn flakes, you're gonna lose me (lose me)
And if ya didn't know, one more here (This is why my nigga choose me)

Chorus:

So give a buck-buck
and a buck-buck there
From the front to the (rear)
Throw your hands (in the air)

With a buck-buck (here)
and a buck-buck (there)
From the front to the (rear)
Throw your hands in the air
*repeat to fade*

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Songwriter(s): Andre G. Weston, Willie D. Hines
Record Label(s): 1995 Atlantic Recording Corp for the United States and WEA International Inc for the world outside of the United States
Official lyrics by

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