Buckin' Em Down Lyrics - 14 Shots To The Dome - Ll Cool J

Yeah, man the flavor, flavor 

Yeah, ah yeah, who we doing? 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Ninety-three comin' off with the flicks and the rough shit 

Packin' niggas kicks with black pits, saber tooth, the truth, ha-coot 

Spit the juice and let the hot-ass-lead-loose 

Let it fly, betty-bye if you're ready to die 

Kickin' your ass and you can ask Keith Sweat why? 

I make your Benz seem obsolete G 

Rippin' your ass discretely, if you meet me 

Puttin' bullets holes in tents, no fingerprints 

You'll catch a slug in your ass while you jump the fence 

Another young black man just caught a case 

Not from 'Texa-mase' 

From gettin' funky like a staircase 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Yeah, what a scene, pullin' a Tech 

With an extra magazine out the baggy-ass jeans 

Wettin' up the block with mad Tech shots 

Drop the glock, puttin' crack heads in headlocks 

Like a cheetah with my dig-beaters 

Ten millimeter, buck, buckin' you down from my two-seater 

Rippin' shit for the brothers who ain't here 

Killin' bears and kickin' snitches right off the pier 

Glock full of guts, steady buckin' butts 

Lettin' moonlight in your head-pull-puds 

Def Jam in your ass for the jams 

You've got posse but are you nice with your hands? 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the 

Shakin' them up and the pickin' them up and the 

Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the 

Shakin' them up and the pickin' them up and the 

Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the 

Shakin' them up and the pickin' them up 

Biggin' them up and the rippin' them up and the 

Shakin' them up and the pick 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Draggin' your flower-ass rappers outta clubs 

Thinkin' it pay too much, wet 'em like a dove 

But in the slang, in the speech, in the style 

Connect, can never be ripped by a suburban child 

Gun smoke, bananza on the block, yeah 

When all the shit was dead, coulda did a bid 

Conferring emcee scramble, dismantle 

Never gamble and try to handle a vandal 

You'll catch a forty upside ya head with ya fake dreads 

Tryin' to front like you're packin' lead 

Dumb-dumbs are fine in a Spiro 

And now you got more beef than a jiro 

Peep the ballistic, kick, slick, quick, flip a script-a-slips 

But that ain't new shit, burnin' ya crib down 

I'm frontin' personal, he's hearin' how a nine sounds 

Busy-quizick, the disare is in fizz up his li-life, the visits was borin' 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down 

Buck, buckin' em down, buck, buckin' em down