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letra de buck 80 (clean) - c-rayz walz

c-rayz walz – “buck 80”
[emcee(s): c-rayz walz]
[producer(s): dj etch a sketch]
[sample: lalo schifrin – “the monk”]

[intro: c-rayz walz]
got you

[hook 1: c-rayz walz]
yo, where you at? right here. what you spit? light years
i’m fresh like a new pair of white airs
stay crazy, blaze daily, save babies, raise ladies
buck 50. keep the change—here’s a buck 80

[hook 2: c-rayz walz]
yo, where you at? right here. what you spit? light years
i’m fresh (fresh, fresh)
stay crazy, blaze daily, save babies, raise ladies
buck 50. keep the change—here’s a buck 80

[verse 1: c-rayz walz]
chicks dig how i spit it—ladies love the phlegm
i don’t ball with none of y’all—i’m still above the rims
and the roundhouse kicks had the streets hugging these jims
drop jewels—even fools be loving the gems
let’s get it on and popping and keep it activated
i hope you need advance speaking on any plans rap-related
i body my verses, rip the beat, shape it, press rewind
slay it, say it, get me reincarnated
like retards getting pussy, i dumb in the cut
you wake up in jail cells with a thumb in your b-tt
you ain’t a thug. i run the club with rum in the cup
ready to rush your dj just to make your music jump (punk)
that’s why i go to clubs with, like, ten themes. and the white mens
i run with can’t jump ‘cause they own the team
and if you ain’t kim, it seems you don’t know me
i spit 16s in your face like twin kobes

[hook 1: c-rayz walz] (x2)
yo, where you at? right here. what you spit? light years
i’m fresh like a new pair of white airs
stay crazy, blaze daily, save babies, raise ladies
buck 50. keep the change—here’s a buck 80

[verse 2: c-rayz walz]
chances get slim like thin dobers that shapeshift
to snoop and rep “gin and juice” like bet and my chi homie
who’s f-cking with this? have you ducking the hits
leave you stuck in a desert with a bucket of p-ss (b-tch)
sit in the p-ssenger seat while i’m crashing your jeep
hot potato was the only way you herbs was p-ssing the heat (come on, son)
you a mangina and a prom queener (fake)
who learned how to thug from fads in don diva
this is that h-ll rell shit that spell well, kid
i snuff buildings if i want to sell bricks
deal with thick nicks—no time for fine dimes
my lines got b.i.g. potential like i write for shyne
and i’m master of the cypher, lord of the rings
and my third eye blings like the scorpion king
and that’s exactly what sound funny, see?
‘cause next time i rap/wrap, it’ll be on the soundtrack for mummy 3

[verse 3: c-rayz walz]
the game’s painstaking (so?). i remain ancient (flow)
flames could have your dame dancing naked on poles in train stations
cats’ll push your b-tton, mush your wifey b-tton
never mind your business—divine intervention’s when you b-tt in
i don’t spit no more. i circle with afghanis
quick to give you barb wire thongs for your granny panties
you b-tch-made, couldn’t stab a track with a switchblade
after you dictate, tell me how my d-ck taste
put 7 in your chest if you owe them / odom checks
and i ain’t talking ’bout the clippers—leave your jersey a mess
i’m a veteran—respect me. my basic spit
make these young players better like jason kidd
and if i’m getting paper, it’s ‘cause i’m ripping flavor
i’m nice around the mic/mike like the wizard players
spit a verse that deserve a replay. get on
some humble shit like, “yo, give it up for the dj!”

- c rayz walz

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