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Artist: Buddha Monk & Da Manchuz f/ Q-Plex
Album:  Zu-Chronicles, Vol. 4: Manchuz Dynasty
Song:   Bang
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Intro: Q-Plex (Lee-Major)]
What you had to tell me sir? (The final conflict, what ya'll)

[Hook: Lee-Major]
Bang, come on, bang, come on, bang, uh
Come on, bang, come on, bang

[Chorus 2X: Lee-Major]
We bang bang razor blade, double edge
In and out of this world, we full fledged to break bread
Shake faith, for the lock on the pearl gate
Snatch MC's up and kill 'em all at Camp Crystal Lake

[Q-Plex]
Yo, sick like those Hillside Stranglers, more ripping than Jack
Got dead fouls by the stacks, tormented
Just a little, paint cats and rip up a little produce
Giving motherfuckas a bad case of wet noodle
In smaller terms, I'm lethal like HIV germs
Bringing sudden pain like child bearing
Straight decapitation like Conan the Barbarian
So whose however come and don't be afraid of them
Because who send them, to begin them, rip out them heart and fuck it

[Babyface Fensta]
Mail it home then, mail it home then
Get off my dick, you get me sick
Your ABC rhymes, ain't worth shit
You better come equipped, like slaves get whipped
Ya'll niggas lick clit, our style, you bit
I flip my whip, you sound like Big, you sound like Jig
Ain't no half steppin', ask Kane
If 2Pac was alive, he'd slap the shit out Lil' Zane
Yo what's crackin', I'm living, can't complain
Maintain the fort, teach the seeds, don't eat pork
Yo, I fork you up, nigga

[Hook]

[Chorus 2X]

[Babyface Fensta]
Yo, cuz, they style is wack, I talk with slack
Punani dani, rag your pussy, dem dont want test
The sharpshooters, from 90's, yo Q, cock that nigga out
I put my gun his mouth (Nah, don't clap him, I think I wanna slap him)
Make that cat buckle, be easy, I don't wanna bruise my knuckles
Bet my Timbs get scuffed in the scuffle
Verbal joust, I house ya mic, duke, fuck them players
The ultimate hater, defender, drop smart bombs
Ring the alarm, it's red dawn, no calm before the storm
Mass murder, summer of Sam, red rum

[Q-Plex]
Chameleon like Tarzan, mad like Cobra
Crush more heads than that nigga Sgt. Slaughter
Bout to run you over like a defensive lineman
Best believe I get accurate, seen in perfect timing
I'm a diamond in the rough, always ready to scruff
Where that nigga that think he tough, step up and get snuffed
And then bag that bitch stuff, you think you ready?
Come make me rock steady, I'm a b-bop that ass
Until you dead and buried, must be in a hurry
To meet ya maker, and I'm be the one who send ya
Much bigger than anticipated, it ain't my fault
Snatch your chest and tap a bomb

[Hook]

[Chorus 2X]

[Hook]