Artist: Eightball Album: Lost Song: Gett Bucked Typed by: jostmatt at bluewin dot ch [ CHORUS: Eightball (2X) ] All my niggas if you feel what I'm sayin get bucked If some niggas wanna flex we can tear the fuckin club up High till I die, let me hear you say it with me Fuck a trick, buck a bitch, death to my enemy [ VERSE 1: Eightball ] Time to take this shit to a level many thought was dead Recall on what I read and try to fuck up a nigga head Not sayin 'fuck peace', but now ain't the time for that Grab the mic and show a muthafucka where it's at Twisted off the dope I twisted, flip and lift it Enlisted in this hip-hop business to get them riches Hardcore freaky bitches dig me cause I shoot much game Fuck the fame, fuck yo name, Ball ain't lame Aggravated, barbituates and bong hits Mixed with V-10 clips, talent tip zipped Cuttin wind, put a bitch life to an end Stop yo grin, put a backhand print on yo chin Ain't no friends in this dirty game we all play That's why we gotta pray and thank the Lord for another day Kill with a pen, Memphian, Babylonian Widespread destruction as the whole world end [ CHORUS: Eightball (2X) ] [ VERSE 2: Eightball ] We gets live when the beat's bumpin, smokin somethin Lyrical homicides lead to late night body dumpin Stumblin, bass rumblin, bitches mumblin Thinkin they the bomb when they known for dick-fondlin I be wonderin who can flip it like Eightball and Rip a stage apart like I do them bitches draws, man Pause, man, if you thinkin you can withstand Poetic pimpin, trappin hoes like quicksand Big man, big Ball, fuckin up all of y'all Before I learned to crawl, dawg, I was taught to ball Taught to get up when I fall and play them hoes And keep that white shit out of my muthafuckin nose Hay chiefin, definition smokin reefer The shit I smoke ain't cheaper but it makes you think deeper Take it how you wanna take it while I break it down, bitch It ain't no mistakin this with that fake gangster shit [ CHORUS: Eightball (2X) ] [ VERSE 2: Eightball ] Fake niggas wanna act like they got heart but they don't fool me Drunk-ass flodgin niggas tryina get unruly Do me and die from all the shit I be poppin Heart stoppin, droppin bombs like the Green Goblin Gothic prophet preachin to my lost civilization Medication turned my sanity to sanitation What's real, though, is how my brain create the flow Mouth spit the flow of how the south kicked in the do' Pulled raps like gats and told you bitches to step back Drive-by side, nigga, ridin one of T-Mix' tracks Spittin facts, cause fiction get the fans' attention Agents takin pictures, buggin tryina hear me mention Drug connections and thug connections Hoes I had sex with and niggas I had to flex with But I be on some 3004 shit, futuristic Space Age Pimp shit, and ain't nothin stoppin this [ CHORUS: Eightball (2X) ]