Verse 1:
It's Buck Taylor, world infamous
Ask em and you'll buy
Soul Assassin where we make music and practice muay thai
Shoot nines at targets in the shape of (blurred) types
I believe those the type that try to take my life
By trading money on the board
Sell me shit I can't afford
Obama part of the system and he just got four more
More tours if I could just to keep me out the hood
Just to keep me on the road, keep my pocket's slow
Keep that product flow coming
J's by the hundreds
Chris Dorner on the corner shooting dice, homie fuck it
We gonna buy a forty ounce and politic the whole night away
I stay in the middle of where the cops and robbers play
Hey
I love a brown skin woman
I got no follow up
Huh, and all my sisters go...
And all the women go...
Follow me...
Interlude:
I know you can't see what I'm doing
Just try to picture what I'm doing and do the same thing
Feel safe
You good here
Trust
Verse 2:
Maaaaan
They keep killing black people on Walking Dead so I switched
Breaking Bad been my shit that 40 ounce got me blitz
Eating Fig Newton's reading 'bout pigs shooting up Asian ladies
Television reality is making our babies lazy
Crazy maybe, even I'm thieving my air time
Just to get the message out on how we short on our time
Sign of our times
Written in LCD screen lights
With sponsorship from a media outlet that tells lies
The cycle is sick and not the kind of sick that Big Duke is
The kind of sick that only get injected by the stupid
Losing sight of our blood line
Look at how this rap is
Shit that rappers hate is now the shit that rapper's make
And I give up like I'm tapping, tell the ref to get him off me
Empty bottle, fully drunk, I need to chase it with coffee
And I'm prolly gonna puff
Pockets on stuck
Let's see if my baby mama can spare me a couple bucks
