Can I Get Bucc

Lyrics

[Daz Dillinger] Yes, yes yall,yes yes yall, yes, yes, yes, yes,yall Yes yes yall, yes yes yall, yes, yes, yes, yes,yall We got some people on the microphone here tonight They coming to give you to you rough, rugged, and raw You know that westcoast feel, yea (All that shit) [Daz Dillinger] Watch out its creep to, what the fuck can he do Slowly but surely death gun comes to greet you Fuck a posse homeboy, I run with a gang Blasting niggas for anything, looking sneaky, looking strange Me and my capos from the pass kick gas Smoke a pound of grass every doubt about cash Glocks, ski mask, we be on a mash Clush crash so don't even try to ask I'm rough, roughed, and raw, and what you seen you just saw What happen when dat nigga daz, on the mic rappin I take control and move you body and soul With just one 'ho', I move the crowd with a flow [Chorus 2x: Daz Dillinger] Can I get bucc, Can I get bucc To all my homies and my ridaz who don't give a fuck Who acting to tough, and acting to rough Come around here nigga, get bucc [Soopafly] You mother fuckers in action We blast niggas for asking the ghetto fab satisfaction Barrel directed to your bone marrow, hit cha Infiltrated to get cha, damage yo completed vanish til you can't manage Its the gangstas and pimps with heated clips You can't hide during the day, we like Gladys Knight like Pips Mashing on these niggas for chips If you wanna ride dip, like these Rus and Rips should Throw up your hood, its all good Nigga what, gangsta anemic stripe Super posting, with a thirty-eight heated up in my holster Blasting who ever stop from rocking coast to coasting I burn and roast a nigga who figure that When you pull out a strap we ain't right, where my gangstas at (Right Here) Show up to blow up your block Out for the cream like the crop I tell these niggas don't stop [Chorus 2x: Daz Dillinger and Soopafly] Can I get bucc, Can I get bucc To all my mother fucking ridaz who don't give a fuck Who acting to tough, and acting to rough Come around here nigga, get bucc [Crooked I] To all of my niggas that couldn't crack britches Staking riches, dipping something vicious Tapping switches, macking and cracking bitches This rapping business is phony as hell So I'ma ride until they throw me an L Like all of the homies in jail I'm gun cocking, concocting shocking plots, so I can clock a knot Hit the spot with my trunk knocking Drop tops is the what this poppa pushes Bearing more arms than octopuses Gauges and Glocks in bushes Ready to start the conflict You off chronic, I'm off atomic energy Literally, thinking of the bomb shit Mob wit me, don't mash alone A chaperone, hoes who love to blow on bones like a saxophone And when niggas think they Al Kapone It only takes three steps, draw, squeeze, shoot, you gone Who am I crooked i, who are they daz and soopafly On the rooper high, stay true to my click [Chorus 2x: Daz Dillinger] Can I get bucc, Can I get bucc To all my mother fucking ridaz who don't give a fuck Who acting to tough, and acting to rough Come around here nigga, get bucc