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Buckshot (feat. KRS-One and DJ Premier)

I used to work at Subway

Seven bucks an hour wasn't much money

But I be rapping and kicking it on my lunch break

Like "I'mma make it out this motherfucker one day"

I was in the back, back seat of the bus before a bluetooth

Got the boombox and a blunt, bootlegger deuce-deuce

H on my crew, we get drunk, a little coo-coo

Type of dudes who square up and knock a tooth loose

Quick to the basement, the, the, the basement

That is the window I'm planning to vacate with

Pops put on bars just in case somebody breaks in

That's not gonna stop me from getting to the pavement

Shh, meeting Jerome at the bus stop

I got the bigger roll, paranoid buck cops

And all my city's known for grunge, flannel, puck rock

And a bunch of Sub Pop, I was on that BuckshotWindow to window and wall to wall

Can of Krylon, we out to bomb

(Buckshot)

Four in the morning I'm with the squad

There we go, there we go, there we go, there we go

Window to window and wall to wall

Can of Krylon, we out to bomb

Four in the morning I'm with the squad

There we go, there we go, there we go, there we goJust copped that new Boot Camp tape

The neighbors keep complaining 'bout too much bass

Bang, bang, let me do my thing

Give me two cans and you gon' know my name

You don't want to get involved

You know I be on these overpasses burning bridges, dog

You know I be dippin' through these alleys tryna diss the law

Sixteen with Adidas on

I'm too speedy for police I'm chiefin' through these streets, I'm gone

I got game, don't need to talk anymore

Boppity-bo, tippity-toppity, I pop me some more

I was underground where he came from and he pop out a hole

Cracked the top back on the flat black aerosol

I woke up in the morning and I had a vision

These suit and ties got the nerve to call it vandalism

They hella mad, say my art is really bad for business

But I'mma paint a better world until the cans are empty

Now let it drip, let it drip

If they catch me doing dirt I'll plead the fifth

I pop a top, I brought my Glock

Speakers bumpin', I was on that BuckshotWindow to window and wall to wall

Can of Krylon, we out to bomb

(Buckshot)

Four in the morning I'm with the squad

There we go, there we go, there we go, there we goChill-chill-chilin' with the crew

Just writing my name in graffiti on the wall

Who-who-who is he?

(Yeah, knowledge reigns supreme)

Got the world following theTurn up the CD or turn up the TV

Turn up your T-A-P-E, turn your phone up, crank up the PC

See, my boys are really PC if you're talking graffiti

See, we call it aerosol art when we splatter the city

I got twenty five cans in my napsack

Crossing out the whick-whack

TIOS's ain't even get that

Fat tips and black books, yo, we rep that

149th street bench is where we slept at

Clep-clap, clep-clap, clep-clap, clep-clap

Those are not my words, the spray can said that

Where them reds at, or them green turquoise?

Where my real graf writers? Make some noiseChill-chill-chilin' with the crew

Just writing my name in graffiti on the wall

Who-who-who is he?

(Macklemore)

Got the world following the

(Buckshot, shot, shot, shot)

Songwriters

CAB CALLOWAY, BEN HAGGERTY, BUSTER HARDING, JOSH RAWLINGS, RYAN S LEWIS, CHRISTOPHER MARTIN, JACK PALMER, LAWRENCE PARKERPublished by

Lyrics © WB MUSIC CORP., Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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