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Artist: Buddha Monk & Da Manchuz f/ I-Born, Pooa
Album:  Zu-Chronicles, Vol. 4: Manchuz Dynasty
Song:   Man Down
Typed by: Cno Evil

[I-Born]
A small, step for man, bitch, throw the pitch
I'm catching grams, check post
What we roast, and leave scenes smelling like hot toast
My thirst and sip flows, hot head
With more lead left than peeled toes
Gotta be, sloppy stops the boxing and rocked meat
Ice tea, Tommy boxers, choking on a Hi-C
Fresh like way up there, where inmates are pipe dreams
On these streets, where it probably is, it must be
Penalties, I'm at ease, I breath and touch dreams
Speed and don't crash, ski with no slopes
I plead with a judge and jewel reads
Rule he sold dope, sold nope to a nigga for my yes yes ya'll
Three four five six seven eight nine with it
I win it, a one-two check ya'll, respect God
And strip you where it hits hard
Head nods, work a job that's above the law
Pull up, way above the bar, broads love my scars
Bruises, scrapes and squads
Face concrete hard for money, with a smile
Style and funny, ripped like jeans
Bent up in 'em like crummy wear pawn
Take it like a crash test dummy, cash first money
The soldiers ammo, handle commando
Jam on stereo, really
From Dutch to Philly, all still feel me
Like love for a nigga, make his ass wanna kill me
Run your realty, spilling, top billing for the ghetto
Say it loud, and let the shit echo

[G-Note$]
Yo, niggas is fruity like a splash of pineapple
Oranges and grapes, I don't fuck with niggas that shake
Looking from the project roof, the city looks pretty
My city never sleeps, ears beauty weak
Like you heard, the man got bodied over a bitch
Like world puzzles, I connects with Musa and pay tribute to the street
We recruit nigga and collect dough, triggers and sourveneirs
Antique guns still spit, without dust anymore
We bust 'em, I trust 'em, niggas ain't rolling with us
Fuck 'em, we draw heat, only live niggas like me'll
Fuck a bitch with the heat, I live what I speak and speak what I live
What the fuck these kids know about federali's
You lollipop (lolli) lying ass nigga
You don't move like a killa (killa) you don't talk like a gorilla (gorilla)
You don't move like a stick-up nigga

[Drunken Dragon]
So I figure that I try to live right, but I ain't making you no promises
You running off your mouth trying to be a street pharmacist
Check 'em out, yo, the jig is about to hit
Rock bottom, crack heads snitch and cops got 'em
Taking 'em back up in the book, got 'em shook
Caught 'em with a pound of coke and some of that was cooked
This is why my nigga G wrote the Gunbook
For all your hard headed and mentally dead crooks
With them rhymes you kicking, your weak transmission
No you can't claim what my team is dishing
Get your ice and begets, your Moe's and Moet's
But first I gotta tell ya'll niggas a secret

[Lee-Major]
Now you can play your distance, we hold our force down
With Egyptian scriptures, carved in your mental
With deep thoughts, we common sense you
Lyrically hem' you, whoever sent you, getting bent to
We extended like instrumentals, we make 'em
Read the parental discretion, so advise yourself
Put the wack raps, back in the shelf
Your heart is in your feet, only be versatile is your beats
You hold no weight, I slow chase, heavy mental
Seven seven seventy heavenly sent you
Something you don't have to pretend to, we been through
Shit tighter than bonds, minds trynna see farther than Mars
Far as these stars, just a few bronze
Hold the weight of the earth on our shoulders
Resurrected through time, behold the great mind soldier

[Pooa]
To all those I had beef with, I know you was possessed by the street kid
Thinking that you sweet shit
The most humble niggas beat in your meat quick
In front of po', dump fuck that sneak tip
Brooklyn cats don't roll precedures, ya'll dudes can seek and suck like leeches
And chickens behind the bleechers
Put me on the spot, you find me speechless
Making power moves, time to sequence
Even when I showered you, popping your ears like high altitudes
Ladies, did take your kind for weakness
Mistakes for bitches, enabled to separate the difference
Plus we enough, make my hitlist
Ask anyone, Poo's who gave 'em business
Finesse harder jobs than saving Christians
Telling ya'll these days is ending, so save my henchmen
Without a bogus motive, nothing here stated, the man basically told us
With the Killuminati, I will wait, but soon will get bodied
Kind of tired, rather suicide, put two in the shotty
Spit til my heart contempt, while Diggs sparks the hemp
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